How to Be a Queen
by 7FacedCube
Summary: When Ari Levesque discovers a terrible secret about her family, she flees from Connecticut and finds herself on the other side of the world. When she returns home a year later, Ari must deal with the unfinished business she left behind, like her future in college, her 'parents' and the one man she could never have, but now just might get.
1. Hiraeth

**hiraeth**

_(n.)_ a homesickness for a home to which you cannot return, a home which maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning, the grief for the lost places of their past

* * *

"**... And to our English-speaking visitors, our 9am flight from Ho Chi Minh City to New York City is now boarding."**

I only stared as people quickly made their way from their seats and towards the gate. Some young, some old, some American, some Vietnamese. It didn't matter, the look of bewilderment on my face did not discriminate against anyone. My grandpa, not that the man had been on a lot of public planes in the past thirty years, had always told me that there was never any reason to make a dash towards the gate when your flight was boarding.

Your seats weren't determined by how fast you got on the plane, your seats were determined by how fast you got up off your ass and booked the ticket.

Well, at least that's what he said.

Speaking of Grandpa...

"Hey, Pop. I got the money you sent through. Thanks so much, I know I've been working and I know you said I should have been saving but it all just went to..."

My mind briefly wandered to the hundreds of liters of cheap Vietnamese alcohol I had more than eagerly purchased and consumed over the past year.

"... Groceries. You know, stuff's expensive over here, Pop. So anyway, my flight's boarding now, so I should see you in..."

I turned around to look out the screen above the gate, where the flight time was showing in big white letters.

"THIS FLIGHT IS 18 HOURS, FUCK- I mean, yeah, I'll see you in 18 hours. Okay, bye, Pops. Love you."

I shoved my phone in my pocket and watched as the line for the plane moved at a glacial pace. At the end of the line stood a middle-aged woman with her arm wrapped around the shoulders of her daughter, insisting that the two take a picture together.

I looked up as a little sigh left my mouth and closed my eyes briefly, maybe because I was tired, but most likely because if I started to get teary-eyed no one would be able to tell.

* * *

"_Knock knock…"_

_I briefly glanced at my alarm clock before rolling over, eyes blurry from sleep and mouth gaping open, wondering why on earth my mother was waking me up at when the sun was still rising for a ceremony that didn't start until 9am. I mumbled something incoherent before burying my head in the pillow._

_The mattress beside me soon creaked; I only pulled the blanket over my head. _

"_It's the morning of your graduation, you should be up and doing cartwheels around the house."_

"_Mmm, s'too early…"_

_My mother responded to my complaining by wrapping an arm around me and practically yanking me close._

"_I'm too old to be snuggling with my mother at six in the morning. Go and bother Murphy or V…" I mumbled._

"_Oh, come on, just let me have this one." Mom groaned. "My baby's going to move all the way to New Jersey, she's grown all the way up."_

"_I'm not your baby, Mom, you have three children that are younger than me." _

"_That's not why I call you my baby." _

"_You call me my baby because my birth traumatized you so much that you spent six years telling yourself that I would be your only child, therefore you called me "my baby" everywhere and to everyone. It's a habit you haven't been able to shake."_

_Mom was silent for a few seconds before sitting up and opening her mouth, all traces of the sing-song tone in her voice disappearing._

"_Who told you that?"_

"_Grandpa when he got drunk at V's christening." I answered, sitting up alongside her._

"_That was 8 years ago, you were ten. Wouldn't that have made you run to me crying?"_

"_Not really. I didn't let it bother me, Grandpa tells me a lot of hardcore shit when he's drunk."_

"_Language."_

"_I thought you said I was grown all the way up."_

"_Maybe not all the way up…"_

_There was a brief silence before I threw my arms around Mom._

"_I thought you hated hugs…" _

"_Just this once." I whispered into her shoulder. _

_Mom wrapped her arms around me and kissed the top of my head before… Oh my god, was she… sniffing me?_

"_What are you doing?" I questioned._

"_Mmm, still got that baby smell…"_

"_EWW! MOM!"_

* * *

We were close.

And then everything went all fucked up.

But with a simple wipe of the eyes and a silent sigh, I pushed whatever I was feeling to the back of my head. Figuring it was now the right time to board, I grabbed my bags and walked over the gate, holding up my bright blue boarding pass to a woman waiting there dressed in a matching blue suit. However, before she let me through, I heard my phone vibrate loudly.

"Tôi xin lỗi." I muttered, _I'm sorry._

I stepped off to the side to answer the phone.

"Hi, Grandpa." I greeted.

"Language!" I heard before anything else.

"I'm sorry, listen, I hope you're not mad about all of-"

"Nope, I don't want to hear a word of it. I'm not mad at all. I can't wait for you to come home, your grandmother's already got a room ready for you. I just have one thing that I want you to do…"

"Mmm, why do I have a bad feeling already?"

"I want you to just call your mother. You don't have to look at her face to face, just give her a call and see how she's doing."

"Nope… Thanks for letting me stay with you, Grandpa." I said simply.

"I knew you'd be like that. Can I talk you into calling your father at least?"

"The fake one, maybe, I wouldn't piss on the real one if he was on fire."

"Don't call him that, he _is not _fake."

"Yeah, alright. Listen, the flight attendants are starting to give me the stink eye, so I gotta go."

"I mean what I said. Call a member of your family that isn't me… or your grandmother."

"Okay, Grandpa. Love you."

"I love you too, kiddo."

"Bye."

I hung up the phone and speed-walked through the gate and into the jetway.

You're probably wondering several things at the moment, the main one being: Who the fuck are you?

Well, I was born Ariette Tallulah Levesque (but I prefer just Ari) on September the Fourteenth 2000 in Greenwich, Connecticut.. My parents, well, 'parents' are Stephanie McMahon and Paul Levesque, but you'd probably know him as Triple H. My mom and dad had only been dating for three months before my mom found out she was pregnant with me, so saying I was unexpected was an understatement, but, surprisingly, they managed to make it work. They got married when I was three years old, and now I have three little sisters: Aurora, Murphy and Vaughn (but I called them Rory, Murph and V).

I graduated from high school last year and ended up in Vietnam after I (quite suddenly) decided to take a gap year. Saying I loved it here would be putting it lightly, the only thing I wasn't instantly attracted to was the language barrier, but, with time, even that was no longer a problem.

But, you know how the saying goes: All good things must come to an end.

A pink hotel on the island of Phu Quoc, that I had spent the better part of a year working at and living in, was hit by one of the worst storms ever recorded in Vietnam.

Suffice to say, there no longer was a pink hotel on the island of Phu Quoc.

I made the decision based on my lack of a job and the imminent expiry of my visa that it was time to return to good ol' Greenwich. I'd be staying with my grandparents, who – you guessed it – were the one and only Vincent Kennedy McMahon, and his wife Linda (I'd tell you her full name, but you haven't been hearing it for the past thirty years, so it wouldn't have the same effect). You're probably thinking: "Why aren't your parents in the picture anymore?" Well…

I'll get to that later.

But long story short: I was not excited to see them again when I arrived back in the US of A.

"Xin lỗi, tôi nghĩ tôi đang ngồi đây." I said to the same mother and daughter I had seen in line, one of which had her handbag on an aisle seat. _Sorry, I think this is my seat._

"Oh tôi xin lỗi." The mother replied, clearing the seat. _Oh, I'm sorry._

I sat and sighed, already wanting the flight to be over (not that it was the lady sitting next to me's fault)

"Where are you heading?" The mother suddenly asked me in perfect English.

"Oh… um, I'm heading home to Connecticut, up from New York City." I answered. I instantly felt confused with myself, I hadn't referred to the famous Constitution State as my home for over a year, but it just came out.

"Ahh… I'm taking this one to see her father in the city." The mother sighed, pointing to her daughter.

"Oh, okay. That's exciting." I responded, forcing a smile onto my face, but the moment I turned away, I sighed and closed my eyes. The 'tear attack', as I called it, was back again.

Who would have thought I'd be so consumed by memories today?

* * *

"_Stop eating the pancake batter! It doesn't even taste good!" I heard as I walked down the stairs. When my mom and I reached the kitchen, we were greeted with the sight of all three of my sisters hanging off my dad. V had her finger in a large bowl of white matter._

"_Hey! Just because she stopped doesn't mean you get to start! Who knows where those fingers have been?!" Dad said, lifting V's little hand up. When she turned around to sulk, she instead saw me and came running over._

"_Ari!" She squealed, running over and wrapping her arms around me. Batter splattered onto my pajamas, but I didn't let it bother me; she was just a little kid._

"_Hey, why is everyone up so early today?" I asked, lifting her up._

"_We're all excited to see you graduate." Mom said, smiling._

_I shot her a skeptical look. _

"_Okay, I told them that we were having pancakes before they went to bed and they all got up at 5:30 this morning." She added meekly._

"_Yeah, I believe that…" I replied. V's hand had found its way into the batter again, Murph's hand was stuck in there too for good measure._

"_Rory, hold this for a second…" Dad said, sticking the spatula in her hands before turning around. Before I knew it, he had tackled me in a hug and was spinning around. _

"_God, I can't believe you're finished with high school. You're going to Princeton, I can't believe it, one of my kids got into Princeton." He gushed. _

"_Listen, I'm just as puzzled as you are…" I countered, an ear-to-ear grin forming on my face._

"_Hey, guess who already sent me a message about you?" Dad questioned._

"_I wouldn't have a clue." _

_Dad only responded by pulling out his phone and showing me a message that read:_

_**Hey, isn't Ari graduating today? wow, I thought she wasn't that old yet. tell the kid I said congrats. -Colby**_

_I briefly wondered who was making that annoying girly whine until I realized it was me. In short, I was infatuated with Colby Lopez a.k.a. Seth Rollins, and was fully convinced that he was my future husband. It didn't matter that he thought I was fifteen years old, all that mattered was that he knew my name and that he said congratulations to me._

_I didn't realize that I had gone as red as a tomato until my mom started pinching my cheeks._

"_Aww, look, she's all flustered…" She beamed, grinning like I was seconds ago. The fact that I pined after Colby was an extremely poorly kept secret that had become obvious to both of my parents, not that they really cared; it was just a crush to them. _

"_I'm sorry, baby, but he's about fifteen years too old for you…" Mom whispered after she wrapped her arms around me._

"_Hey, there's seven years between you and Dad!" I protested, crossing my arms._

"_You'd put up a convincing argument if there wasn't fifteen years between you two and you weren't seventeen years old." Dad sighed, taking the spatula off Rory and flipping the half-done pancakes on the stove. I pouted and took a seat at the breakfast bar, my arms still folded around my chest._

"_Aww, cheer up, buttercup. Hey, how about you tell her who's coming today?" Mom asked Dad._

"_Who is?" I added, lowering my eyebrows._

"_Well, a certain someone sent me a message last night saying he just flew up to New York from Florida and had time to come up and see you…" Dad paused._

"_We know a lot of people who live in Florida, Dad." I said bitterly._

"_Okay, I'll narrow it down: Who's the one person you really wanted to come but I told you he couldn't?" Dad questioned._

_Once again, I wondered who was making that girly whiny noise until I had my arms wrapped around Dad. _

"_Uncle Shawn's coming! Oh my god! Uncle Shawn's coming!" I squealed. Sure I had my Uncle Shane on my mom's side, and my Auntie Lynn on my dad's side, but Uncle Shawn was on a completely different wavelength. He was my hero and, even though he had two kids of his own, I was his little buddy. _

"_Aw, I knew you'd be excited, baby girl, you know what time I think it is?" Dad asked._

"_Humor me…" I replied, smiling._

"_Metallica o'clock." _

"_Paul! No! It's not even seven-" It was too late. Dad had already turned the sound system on, Seek and Destroy almost instantly came blasting into our living room. Mom only sighed._

"_Come on, baby, you've gotta do the headbanging now, I haven't got the hair to do it anymore." Dad uttered encouragingly._

"_Alright. Count me in…" I said, standing up on the coffee table._

"_Ari, no, get down from there!"_

"_Let her go, Steph, it's the most important day of her life, she can do whatever she likes. Alright… Three… Two… One… Go!"_

* * *

I had it good then.

But I knew that that home did not even exist anymore, and even if it did, I could never go back and find it in my heart to put all the bad shit behind me and be happy.

"**Chúng tôi sẽ sớm bắt đầu cất cánh của chúng tôi, hãy đảm bảo bạn đang ở trong chỗ ngồi của bạn và sẵn sàng cho khởi hành."**

"**We will soon begin our take-off, make sure you are in your seat and ready for departure."**

As I looked up, I realised that I was not ready for departure, but, as the plane slowly began to move, I saw that it didn't matter. The world would keep turning and I would have to go with it whether I wanted to or not.

_Look the fuck out, Greenwich, your prodigal daughter is finally coming home._

* * *

**A/N: Follow, favourite and review!**


	2. Vagary

**vagary**

_(n.) _an unpredictable instance, a wandering journey; a whimsical, wild or unusual idea, desire, or action.

* * *

"_I'm going to fucking kill him."_

"_Paul, you are not killing anyone. You're going to talk to him like an adult." Vince demanded, walking after the furious man. _

"_Do not tell me what to do, and do you honestly think what he did was being an adult?!" Paul shouted, turning around to face Vince. His face was bright red, and his jaw was clenched to match._

"_It was twenty years ago, neither of you were adults. I am not excusing what happened but-"_

"_Did you know?!" Paul interjected, staring down Vince._

_Vince only sighed in reply, looking away from Paul and loosening his tie. Vince had had some shocker employees over the years, but he had always dealt with them without even breaking a sweat. But for the first time, Vince was afraid of an employee, and not because of his size or stature, but because Paul's rage was built up on something genuine. He hadn't been passed up for a title shot, he wasn't filled to the brim with steroids and ready to unload on anyone, something truly upsetting had happened to Paul and he was going after the culprit._

"_DID YOU KNOW?!" Paul snapped._

"_No, I didn't. And if I did, I would've done something. I would have told you." Vince answered meekly._

_Paul only looked up, staring up at the sky for a few moments before scoffing and looking back down._

"_I don't believe you." He uttered to Vince before turning around and beginning to walk away._

"_You think Ari would want you to do this?!" Vince shouted after Paul. This made him turn around and look at Vince with enraged eyes, and before he knew it, Paul was striding over towards him. As soon as he was within reach, Paul grabbed Vince by the shirt with both of his hands._

"_DO NOT USE MY DAUGHTER AS A GUILT-TRIP EVER AGAIN! ESPECIALLY NOT NOW… WHEN THIS IS ALREADY ALL ABOUT HER, AND SHE DIDN'T EVEN DO ANYTHING WRONG!" Paul seethed._

_Vince was dead silent for a few moments before calmly removing Paul's hands from his shirt. _

"_I know that you are angry, but if you ever lay your hands on me again, I will fire you and have you charged with assault." He said bitterly._

_Paul's face almost broke into a smile, "I'll make that easier on you. I quit."_

_Vince's face of anger immediately dissolved to one of shock as Paul silently turned around and continued his walk towards a tall white building._

"_So, you're going to throw this all away?! All that I've given you? You're going to throw it away for this?!" Vince yelled after Paul, "If that's who you are, then you don't even deserve a place in this company!"_

_Paul turned around, taking one last look at Vince._

"_Why don't you tell someone that gives a fuck?" He remarked, before entering the building._

* * *

Oftentimes, I would dream about stuff that I had only heard about through the grapevine. I didn't know if my grandpa actually brought me into their argument or if he was actually scared of my dad at that moment, however, I did know that that was the day my dad quit the WWE.

I didn't realise I had fallen asleep until I was jolted awake, I looked around to see that the plane had just landed on the runway. I furrowed my eyebrows in slight annoyance; I had never enjoyed it when a plane was landing. Even when I was a teenager, I used to hold my mom's hand as the plane hit the ground. Don't tell anyone, but I kind of wished she was there with me at that moment…

I sighed in relief when the plane eventually came to a stop, and I immediately heard from the intercom:

"**Chúng tôi vừa đến sân bay John F. Kennedy, ở thành phố New York xinh đẹp. Giờ địa phương là mười hai giờ chiều, nhiệt độ hiện tại là bảy mươi ba độ và đó là một ngày hè tuyệt vời. vui lòng ngồi yên cho đến khi dấu hiệu thắt dây an toàn biến mất."**

"**We have just arrived at John F. Kennedy Airport, in the beautiful city of New York. The local time is 12PM, the current temperature is 73 degrees and it is a fabulous summer day. Please remain seated until the fasten seatbelts sign disappears."**

"I hope you have a wonderful trip." I said to the mother and daughter as I grabbed my bag. Over the course of the last eighteen hours, I had come to know that their names were Tuyen and Lanh (Tuyen being the mother and Lanh being the daughter). Tuyen had vented to me about her divorce, but that was okay, because I had vented to her about my family drama that came right after a soap opera. And even though we were still frazzled and a bit angry, the vent had made both of us feel better.

"And I hope everything works out for you at home. You seem like a very smart girl, I think it will." Tuyen replied as we both stood.

"Tạm biệt." I said happily, stepping out of my seat and into the aisle, _Goodbye_.

"Tạm biệt." She replied before I headed off the plane and onto the jetway. After I collected my luggage, I looked around for any sign of a WWE employee (because I knew full well that Vince McMahon wasn't about to make an appearance at JFK's international arrivals terminal). Eventually, I spotted a suited man holding up a sign in big black letters that read: "ARIETTE LEVESQUE".

"That's me…" I uttered meekly as I walked up to him. He only held up his phone in response, most likely studying an old picture of me that he had been given to make sure he was picking up the actual Ari Levesque. I wouldn't be surprised if it was hard for him. Over the past year, I hadn't cut my hair once (meaning it had grown long, but also extremely frizzy), my skin had grown freckled and even more tan, and my hair was also remarkably sun-bleached, which might sound attractive, but on me it looked more like a box dye bleach job.

"Yeah, I see it." The man said gruffly and took my suitcase in silence and guided me to a limo.

"Wait, this is for me?" I asked cautiously approaching the vehicle.

"Yep, Mr McMahon requested it." The driver answered, putting my suitcase in the drunk of the car. I only nodded my head and opened the door before getting it.

"That's supposed to be my job." The driver commented, walking over to my door. I could only smile.

"Sorry." I said, right before shutting the door.

I awkwardly shuffled into a seat by the window. I'd never quite grown comfortable with riding in a limo, so I just sat there, arms in my lap and eyes darting around like I was some kind of lizard. I soon spotted a decanter filled with brown liquid sitting on a console in front of me with a glass beside it.

"He requested that for you too." The driver interjected, noticing that I was staring at the gift of sorts. Nonchalantly, I grabbed the glass and poured only the amount of a single shot into it before downing the whole thing (not to brag, but I had grown quite accustomed to drinking in Vietnam).

I sat back, feeling the taste of… apple juice in my mouth?

The driver began to laugh hysterically, slapping the steering wheel before looking back at me.

"I guess you're gonna have to get used to teetotalism again?" He asked.

"Yeah, yeah," I said bitterly, crossing my arms over my chest.

The driver wiped his brow, still chuckling as he pulled out of the parking lot and towards the highway. That was when I made the decision to wind up the glass dividing window.

* * *

"Young lady… Young lady, I really don't think it's a good idea to go back here right now, Mr McMahon is in a meeting." The receptionist called after me, jogging awkwardly in her stilettos.

"Don't worry, he knows me, I'm family!" I called back before skidding to a stop and setting my eyes on a conference room. It was filled to the brim with old people, _Jesus, were my parents the only members of the board that weren't over sixty? _I thought, and against my better judgement:

"VINNIE MAC!" I shouted, slamming by hands on the glass door. Every single person in the room stared, and the one person I was looking at seemed to just look at me in horror for a few moments before it dawned on him… Grandpa then flew out of the conference room at an almost vicious speed and wrapped his arms around me.

"You look so different. So grown up. How was the flight home? Should I have sent the private plane for you instead?" He asked quickly, grabbing a hold on my shoulders.

"No, you shouldn't have sent the private plane for me. The flight was fine." I replied, smiling.

"So how was Vietnam? Did you enjoy yourself?"

"Well, I stayed there for a year, if that's any indication." I answered, chuckling, "But yeah, it was great, it was what I needed."

"Do you feel any different about… well… you know…" Grandpa trailed off before putting his hands behind his back.'

"I honestly thought that Vietnam would give me this amazing clarity about what I should do and how I should feel, but I have to say that I don't feel much different." I sighed.

"Well, if it's any consolation, you look _very_ different, and don't worry, because until you figure out what you're going to do, the guesthouse is all yours."

"Thank you, Grandpa. I don't know what I'd do without you." I said, hugging him. "But while we're talking about how amazing you are, I do have something I want to talk to you about…"

"Mm-hmm?"

"Listen, I'm going to apply to Princeton in the fall and go there next year if I get accepted, but I don't want to sit in your guesthouse for the entire year. So, I was wondering if you had any jobs for me here? I'm not fussy, I'll literally be a janitor."

"Honey, I'm not going to make you a-" Grandpa paused for a moment as he pulled away, looking at me dead in the eye, "I have an idea, follow me…" He added, before speed-walking off. I immediately went after him and we both ended up in his huge office, where he began to rummage through drawers under his desk.

"I saw how you walked in here and it just dawned on me that you might be perfect for this…" He muttered, pulling out a bind of papers.

"For what?"

"Kayla Braxton walked out of the company last week, she had an issue with salary that we weren't willing to be flexible on. I've been searching for an interviewer to replace her-"

"Umm, I don't really think I'm qualified for that."

"I'm not saying you're Raw's all-new full-time backstage interviewer, but I need _someone_ to do the job this week, just until we find someone with… more experience and. I'll make it easy, I'll cut the segment down to two minutes and we'll even set a teleprompter up for you to use at the start."

"I still feel like you're oversimplifying this massively."

"Listen, take your backpack and that bomber jacket off…"

I did just that, despite grumbling

"Straighten up your back and smile…"

"Okay…" I said before putting my shoulders back and forcing a smile on my face.

"Your form is perfect; the people would love you. Your look does need work though, but I have a feeling about you, Hun."

"That'd be good to hear if I wasn't completely petrified."

"Relax, we'll shoot it before the show, so if you can't get the hang of it, it won't even be aired." Grandpa assured, "Tonight would be perfect."

"Tonight?"

"Raw's in Brooklyn tonight. It's only an hour drive away. You'll have plenty of time to get down there and shoot the segment."

"So, if I don't fuck the segment it up, I'll be on national television _tonight_?"

"Well, no, you know how I like to keep my programming exclusive to a select few neighborhoods in the New England area."

The sarcasm was completely lost on me.

"Yes, you're going to be on national television." Grandpa said after quite a long silence.

"Oh my god, but what if my parents see me and they immediately track me down? What if I'm really ugly, and my double chin is all that Twitter is talking about in the morning?" I panicked.

"Honey, you're not ugly, and as for your parents… You didn't hear?"

"Hear what? I mean, I know that Dad quit, but what if he's still watching?"

"Oh, believe me, I don't think any one of your parents will be tuning in tonight."

"God, do I want to know?"

"You really don't." Grandpa sighed, "… Well, if we're done discussing business, I guess I should bring the girls up."

"The girls?"

Instead of replying, Grandpa walked over to the phone at his desk and punched a number in before putting it up to his ear, "Hi, can I get Lauren and Camille up here please? Alright, thank you."

Not two minutes later, the doors to Grandpa's office opened right up and in walked two perfectly-dressed, blonde-haired women. One looked to be in her mid-thirties, while the other looked twenty-five or twenty-six at the most.

"Ari, this is Lauren and Camille, if a writing team decides to make a change to a performer's appearance, these two make it happen. Girls, this is Ari, my granddaughter. I need her camera-ready for tonight."

Lauren, the older one, waved at me, while Camille had already sat me down in a chair and was running her hands through my hair, "God, I love this hair, but I'll admit that it desperately needs a cut and color. I'm thinking shoulder-length golden brown."

"All the way to my shoulders?" I asked nervously.

"All the way, sweetie. You've got split ends and Tom-Hanks-in-Castaway levels of sun-bleaching in that mane ad that's how were going to fix it. Now for your face, I'm thinking a light smoky eye and a nude lip will be perfect." Lauren gushed, squatting in front of me. "You remember that Ralph Lauren blazer we were looking at last week for Alexis? That would be perfect for her." She said to Camille.

"So, do you think you can have her ready and at Barclays Center by six?" Grandpa

"We can have her ready and at Barclays Center by four. But if you're giving us until six, then she's going to look majestic." Camille said excitedly.

"Can we use the-"

"Yes, you can use the company credit card." Grandpa replied to Lauren.

"And can we take the-"

"Yes, you can take the company car."

"Well, Camille, stop pulling on the poor girl's hair and let's go! We're going all the way to Manhattan and traffic on the I-95 doesn't let up for anybody."

"Hey, I did not say you could take the car into the-"

"Bye, Vince, it was lovely meeting with you, I'll see you soon." Lauren said quickly, hustling Camille and I out of the room and closing the door behind her.

* * *

Not an hour later, I was sitting in a Sally Hershberger-esque salon, waiting for my hair to finish "marinating" (as Camille called it) in a light brown dye. Camille sat opposite me, ready from a tabloid while I watched the television on the other side of the room which was showing some trashy celebrity gossip show.

"_Excited news today as a date has finally been set for former WWE wrestler and business executive, Paul 'Triple H' Levesque's UFC debut. He's set to appear in the main event of UFC 242, just two months away. It was just over a year ago now that-"_

"Hey, excuse me, can we maybe turn this over?" Camille called out, pointing towards the television.

I sighed as I looked away, rubbing my eyes with my hands and trying to catch those tears before they even appeared.

"Thanks." I muttered.

"It's okay, I saw you getting upset, and it's not only my job to get you looking fabulous, but it's also my job to keep you comfortable." Camille explained. "All the crap that went down was hard to watch, I can't imagine what it must have been like to experience, but I think it's best if we keep an "out of sight, out of mind" way of thinking."

"Yeah, I guess…" I uttered reluctantly.

There was a brief silence between us that followed Camille's statement. I didn't know if it was healthy for her to do that to me, but I decided to take her word for it for the time being.

"So, did you meet any _boys_ while you were over in Vietnam?" Camille asked in a sing-song voice, presumably desperate to change the subject.

"There were a few guys, mostly tourists. The language barrier was made it tough, and by the time I became quite fluent, I'd already decided that I just wasn't in the right frame of mind for a relationship." I sighed.

"I met my man just after I swore to myself that I was done with dating for at least a year. It'll happen when you least expect it, it's kind of scary." Camille said, smiling.

"I'll take your word for it." I muttered quietly. Certain events had made me skeptical of finding true love, but I wasn't about to complain to someone I'd known for an hour about my jadedness (even though that's exactly what I did with Tuyen on the plane).

"Hey! Can we get some ice waters over here?!" Camille called out again.

It was at that point I realized that I found Camille the stylist slightly (and by slightly, I mean incredibly) grating.

* * *

Both Lauren and Camille stood outside the change room, waiting for me to finish.

"Okay, I'm done." I called before stepping out of small cubicle. Upon seeing me, Lauren put her hands up to her mouth.

"Oh my god, Camille, look at what we made, oh, I'm so proud of us… Sweetie, just look at the mirror and take it all in."

I turned around to look at the wall-sized mirror. Even I had to admit, I looked ready to appear on Raw. My hair was almost the color of gold, Lauren had done my makeup flawlessly, and she had also hunted down the Ralph Lauren blazer for me to wear (along with a blouse underneath, and matching pants and shoes).

"Am I Raw ready?" I asked nervously.

"Honey, forget Raw, you're New York Fashion Week ready." Lauren replied, putting her head on my shoulder.

"Group hug!" Camille squealed, and before I knew it, I was being squashed between Lauren and Camille.

After we paid, Lauren hailed down a taxi at the front of store.

"Now, unfortunately, this is where we leave you, Hun." Lauren sighed.

"You're not coming to Raw?" I asked.

"No, unfortunately, both of us have people to go home to, but we'll be watching you be fabulous from our living room." Lauren answered, hugging me.

"Driver, take her to Barclays Center, put it on this card." Camille commanded, handing him the company credit card.

"I'll see you." I said, getting into the back of the car.

"If you ever need anything, just call me, here's my card…" Lauren said frantically, basically throwing her business card at me.

"Bye!" Camille said before she shut the door. The taxi promptly drove off.

As the car got closer and closer to the arena, the nervousness I was feeling before kicked in again. The "what ifs" were suffocating to me: What if I fucked it all up? What if I fucked it all up and they still put me in the show? What if they thought it was okay, but I end up being the world's biggest joke?

"Hey, we're here."

The driver's voice took me out of my thoughts and I calmly collected the credit card from him before stepping out of the taxi, the vehicle speeding off the moment I took a step away from it. I put my hands behind my back as I walked cautiously into the backstage area, not a single soul in sight as I slowly crept through an open roller door.

Although my nerves were threatening to make me crumble completely, the sight of large red banners seemed to temporarily distract me, especially one reading: "YOUR WWE UNIVERSAL CHAMPION SETH ROLLINS".

"Huh, well, that's news to me." I muttered quietly to myself.

However, this distraction proved to be hazardous, as, just a few moments after I had stopped looking ahead of me to look at the banners, I bumped right into someone.

"Hey, look where you're- Oh my god, Ari?"

**A/N: Follow, favorite and review!**


	3. Wonderwall

**wonderwall**

_(n.) _Someone you find yourself thinking about all the time; the person you are completely infatuated with.

* * *

"Oh my god, I hardly recognize you. Vince told me you were filling in as an interviewer tonight, but I thought he was just kidding."

"I too thought it was just a big joke at the start." I chuckled before wrapping my arms around the large man, "How's it going, Kurt?"

Kurt Angle and I were uber-close when I was little and I spent all my time on the road with my parents. Then he left the company and I started school, then we just lost touch. When he came back as general manager a couple of years ago, he became kind of an uncle to me and gave me so much advice as I was finishing school. Then I took off, and we had lost touch again up until now…

"I'm good, I'm good. Things have been going great since I got wrote back in as general manager again. It's a good way to be here with everyone and not have to wrestle anymore. But that's most certainly enough about me, you spent a year on the other side of the world? Tell me about all the things you did, tell me about all the things you saw. I don't think I've ever been to Vietnam."

"Well, to be honest, it was like a whole other world over there. I basically worked at this cute little resort the entire time, oh, it was beautiful. Phu Quoc, you really do have to go someday." I gushed.

"Have you… talked to anybody since you came back?" Kurt asked awkwardly.'

"Apart from my grandpa, no, I haven't." I answered quietly, looking down. "I'm not sure if I'm going to either, I mean, what's there to say?"

"Well, if you're going to talk to anyone, you should really reach out to Paul. He's still really upset about what happened, and I think that he just wants to see and be in touch with you again, regardless of the truth."

"Well- Okay, maybe."

"Alright. Vince sent me two copies of the script." Kurt said, handing one to me, "You've got about an hour before we need to shoot the segment. I'll go get your interviewee."

Not two minutes later, Kurt returned with a woman who looked taken aback the moment she saw me.

"Hey, it's Ari." The woman said, a soft smile appearing on her face.

"Hey." I replied, smiling. "I heard about you and Travis while I was away, I'm really sorry."

"Don't be, I'm much happier now that it's all over. And I'm- well-" The woman paused. I could tell that she was about to utter _that_ phrase.

"I'm sorry about what happened to you, it must've hurt, you know? I understand why you packed up and went to the other side of the world. But it's good you're back."

"Thank you." I said politely, even though I was so sick of hearing sorry from people like someone had died or something. I then realised that the woman standing in front of me was probably also tired of people saying sorry to her, so I decided to just let it go and accept that we were both just trying our best.

"So, do you want to start rehearsing?"

"I think we should start with a full run-through reading off the script."

"Alright, after you…"

"… Hi, everyone, joining me tonight is-"

* * *

"I just don't understand what the hell you were doing wondering the streets of Stamford at seven-thirty at night? How did you even get there?!" Stephanie questioned, gripping the steering wheel.

"Courtney's friend took us there." Aurora mumbled.

"You mean he's the one that drove you to Stamford? That creep?! First off, it's not normal for twenty-one-year-old boys to be friends with thirteen-year-old girls. Second, I don't care how old he was, what were you doing getting into a car with him?"

"I don't know, maybe I wanted a positive male figure in my life." Aurora muttered, looking down.

"Do not even start with me!" Stephanie yelled, "You know what? If you're going to start with the guilt-tripping, then I'm going to start to: Your sisters were terrified, they thought you'd been kidnapped and murdered or something."

"I don't care."

"Yeah, big shock there… Just- Tell me what it is that you're trying to achieve, Rory? Shoplifting? Hitting that girl from school? And now deciding to go missing for an entire afternoon? If it's attention that you want, then you've got it, because it feels like I'm spending every second of every day cleaning up the messes you've made!"

"I just want things to go back to the way they were! But they are never going back and it's all your fault!" Aurora shouting, pointing at Stephanie. She only sighed in response.

"I apologized for an entire year to you girls about what, and if you don't understand how bad I feel and how much I wish I could change it by now, Aurora, then that's on you!"

"No! I do understand! You're the one who doesn't understand! You can't just be sorry and make it better! Feeling bad about it doesn't fix anything!" Aurora argued as Stephanie pulled into the driveway.

"Well, what else do you want me to do?!" Stephanie asked angrily.

"I don't want anything from you! I wanna go and live with Dad!"

"WELL, YOUR DAD DOESN'T WANT YOU RIGHT NOW!" Stephanie snapped loudly. The tone in her voice made Aurora instantly fall silent, Stephanie covered her mouth when she realised she had maybe taken it too far.

"I HATE YOU!" Aurora screamed. "YOU'RE THE REASON THAT ARI AND DAD ARE GONE! YOU ARE THE REASON WHY DAD CAN'T HAVE US RIGHT NOW! I WISH YOU WOULD JUST DROP DEAD!"

The young girl proceeded to run out of the car, slamming the door behind her, and towards the house. Stephanie took a moment to compose herself, wiping her eyes and taking a deep breath, before following Aurora inside.

"Aurora?! Aurora?" Stephanie called after her as she walked up the stairs. Aurora didn't stop, and Stephanie's calls were only greeted by the sudden slamming of Aurora's bedroom door.

Stephanie sighed and walked to family room to find Murphy and Vaughn watching TV. She rolled her eyes when she saw that her youngest daughters were watching Raw.

"Please, please can we have it on for just another ten minutes?" Vaughn begged; she knew that her mother absolutely hated having Raw or Smackdown on nowadays.

"Alright, but not a minute longer, okay?" Stephanie sighed before walking into the kitchen. It wasn't two minutes before she heard a voice that she swore she knew:

"_Hi, everyone, joining me tonight is WWE Raw Women's Champion, Ronda Rousey…"_

"OH MY GOD! MOM! MOM! MOM!" Stephanie heard, and before she knew it, Murphy and Vaughn were in front of her, their faces as white as ghost. Both of them were yelling loudly, each trying to give their mom the news before the other. Eventually, Murphy clamped a hand over Vaughn's mouth and before Stephanie could even get a word in…

"Ari's on the TV!" Murphy squealed.

"Honey, Ari's still in Vietnam." Stephanie said calmly. _Surely, she'd call me if she was back, I know she's still mad at me, but she'd call, I'm her mother_, she thought.

Vaughn grabbed Stephanie's hand and pulled her into the family room. Stephanie didn't want to believe it, but standing right there, holding a microphone up to Ronda Rousey's face, was Ari. Stephanie leaned down in front of the television, a hand over her open mouth. She knew that she had messed up, but Stephanie had thought that, with time and a little distance, Ari would come to miss her as much as Stephanie missed Ari.

_She hates me, she fucking hates me_, Stephanie thought.

"Mom?"

She didn't realise the tears leaking out of her eyes until Murphy spoke up. Stephanie quickly wiped her eyes and stood before turning to her youngest girls.

"Is Ari going to come and visit?" Vaughn asked excitedly.

Murphy gasped, "Is Ari going to come and live with us again?" She questioned.

"I don't think so, baby, but we're okay with just each other, aren't we?" Stephanie said, forcing a smile onto her face.

"Whatever. V, let's go and watch Raw in my room." Murphy muttered before turning around with Vaughn and walking up the stairs. Stephanie sighed and turned around, watching the interview wrap.

"_So, any last words for your opponent tonight?"_

"_Ember, over these past few weeks, you've been the hunter, trying to take everything I hold dear, but you better listen close to the words that are coming out of my mouth: Tonight, you become the hunted." _

Ronda walked away as the camera stayed on Ari. She looked different to Stephanie; her hair was a different colour and she was wearing more makeup than Stephanie had ever seen her have on. Ari had the gleam in her eyes too, like she was perfectly happy with where she was at that moment. The shot of Ari soon faded to black and a commercial soon appeared in its place. Stephanie took a moment to wipe her eyes once more before switching off the television.

_You're okay, _Stephanie thought, and walked back into the kitchen.

_You're okay._

* * *

"How was I? Oh my god, I wasn't horrible, was I? Please, please tell me if I was bad…" I fretted, pacing around the couch in Grandpa's office.

"Honey." Grandpa sighed, grabbing both of my shoulders, "You were fine, great, in fact." He assured me before wrapping an arm around my shoulders and turning me towards Kurt.

"And if you don't believe your grandpa, let me be the one to tell you that you did really great, and if it was up to me, you'd be the permanent interviewer on Raw." Kurt beamed. "I mean, you're no Mean Gene yet, but I like how you looked on camera."

"Well, I'll take that as a compliment and not some creepy comment." I responded, smiling softly.

"You should. Now go and say hi to everyone; go mingle. You basically shot that interview and then your Gramps holed you up in here." Kurt said, leading me towards the door.

"She's eighteen. God knows what would happen to her if-"

"She'll be fine, Vin Mac. Go to the girls in the locker room and ask them some stupid questions, go to the production truck and see how the show works. See you at the end of the show, kid."

"Wait, wh-"

Kurt slammed the door behind me right after he got me out of the room. I rolled my eyes slightly and headed down the hallway towards catering. not getting very far before I heard a voice.

"Yeah, she seems okay. She still seems a bit iffy about everything, just like you."

I furrowed my eyebrows and poked my head around the corner to see Ronda standing right there, holding up a phone to her ear. Her voice was lowered and she was looking around cautiously to see who was watching, but a smile was plastered on her face.

"Okay, yeah, I understand. I'll see you tomorrow, okay? I love you too. Bye…"

I stepped back behind the corner as Ronda hung up the phone and walked right past me. _Wait, was she talking about me? Who was she talking to? Did she just say I love you? But she just split up with Travis. Oh my god, I sound like my mother. Shut the fuck up, Ari, she was probably just talking to her mom or something, _I thought.

I turned back around to continue my walk towards catering, just walk straight into someone and smack my face on a metal kind of thing hanging off their back. As I held my nose, muttering a few curse words, that someone turned around.

"Hey, are you okay- Wait, it's…" The man paused.

_Oh my god, is this really happening? Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. This is your soulmate and the first thing you do is slam your face on his title belt. Wait, why is he not saying anything? Should I say sorry? What was he even- Oh. He's silent because he can't remember my name._

"Ari, right?" He asked

"Yeah, the one and only." I replied, crossing my arms

_You idiot, who even says that?_

"… And you're Colby, unless you prefer Seth now? You know, when I mentioned who I was over in Vietnam, all they'd ever talk about was 'the Seth Rollins.'"

_That was true. I wasn't quite sure why, but any WWE fans over there really were mad about Seth Rollins._

"Huh, really? Well, I still go by Colby." He said, smiling.

_Fuck, that smile was adorable. Okay, breathe, Ari, breathe. Don't scare him away._

"So, Vietnam, huh? I saw your pictures on Instagram, you looked like you were having such a great time. What ended up bringing you back to the States?" Colby asked.

"Well, it was good-"

_He wasn't asking how it was, idiot. He's original like that._

"I'm sorry. Well, it was a whole bunch of reasons. The resort I was working at kind of… blew down in a storm, and my visa was expiring, and I didn't want to extend when I didn't have a job because that would have been a complete nightmare, so I just decided to come back." I replied, shrugging.

"Oh, well, I hope you settle in here again soon." Colby responded.

_Great, that was waaaaay too much information, Ari._

"So, have you got a place to stay? Are you okay? Do you have a plan? I just saw you on the TV, but your grandpa told me that it wasn't going to permanent."

_Oh my god, he's so sweet. He almost makes me wish I didn't have a place to stay._

"Oh yeah, everything's fine, I'm staying with my grandpa and he's probably giving me a job at HQ or something-"

"Hey, Ari?!"

_Who the fuck is that ruining the story I was going to tell our kids in ten years?_

I turned around to see Kurt standing there.

"Change of plans. Your grandpa is saying that he's genuinely going to fire me if I don't bring you back to his office."

"Oh, come on!" I groaned, stomping my foot.

"His words not mine."

I turned back to Colby, sighing and rolling my eyes a little bit.

"I am so sorry." I said.

"No, don't be. I can't say I would do the same, but I understand where he's coming from. Lots of weird guys getting around these parts…"

_He's smiling that smile again. God, I feel like I'm gonna pass out._

"I'll see you later." I uttered, smiling softly and turning around.

"Hey, I don't mean to be creepy, but do you wanna possibly meet up somewhere and talk? Somewhere in the city after the show maybe? I mean, you're probably sick of talking about your problems with old dudes and strangers, so I figured why not? There's a cute little all-night coffee shop that I always go to."

_Is this… like… real?_

"KURT, I SWEAR TO GOD IF I DON'T SEE HER WITH MY OWN EYES IN FIFTEEN SECONDS, YOU CAN GO BACK TO TNA FOR ALL I CARE!" I heard Grandpa yell.

"Okay, I really have to go, but can I meet you back here after the show?" I called to Colby, as I had already started jogging away.

He only responded with a thumbs up and a smile.

"Grandpa, I have to stay in the city tonight, something magical has happened." I uttered the moment I had stepped back into Grandpa's office and shut the door.

"Okay, that's exactly what your mother said to me when she told me she was pregnant with you, so that phrase already has negative connotations for me." Grandpa replied.

"I think I just got asked out."

"No."

"No what?"

"No, as in you're not going on a date with anyone in this building."

"What if it's a guy from 205 Live? What if he was only a year or two older than me?"

_It wasn't, but he didn't need to know that._

"Nope."

"Oh, pretty please, Grandpa?"

_Maturity levels were 100% at the moment._

"Absolutely n-"

* * *

"- And everyone's telling me "talk to your dad", "you have to talk to Paul", and honestly, I just wish they'd ask me what_ I_ want to do first. I'm so sorry, I'm ranting." I sighed and shook my head lightly.

"No, it's okay. So, what _do _you want to do?" Colby asked before taking a sip out of his coffee cup.

"Well, I don't have a solid plan, but I just want to figure this out by myself. I want to talk to people on my terms, not anyone else's. I'm not a kid anymore."

"That's partially true."

"Partially?"

"Partially as in you're eighteen. I didn't think of myself as a fully grown adult when I was eighteen, and all this advice that everyone's giving you, believe me when I say that they're just trying to help. They just assume that you have no idea."

"Yeah, alright." I muttered.

_God, he's talking like he's my dad._

Somehow, I'd convinced Grandpa to let me go out with Colby after Raw was over. But not before he had armed me with pepper spray, a whistle, a taser (which I'm not completely sure how Grandpa got his hands on), and the key to an executive suite at the Four Seasons New York. Colby had taken me across the bridge (not against my will or anything; I feel like this is important to add while we're on the topic of the security) to Manhattan, where a 24-hour café was his 'official coffee spot' in New York.

"Are you gonna talk to- you know… the 'other' guy?" Colby asked quietly.

"Maybe… Someday… But for now, let's just say if I saw him walking down the street, I'd either walk the other way or go up to him and punch him out, depending on my mood." I sighed.

"Oh, well, at least you're honest." Colby reasoned, shrugging slightly.

I opened my mouth to speak, probably to try and change the subject from my broken home to… well… something a little lighter, when the bell on the door of the café rung loudly, indicating that someone had come in. I turned to the door and let my jaw drop; standing there was Camille with the biggest smile on her face.

"Hiiiii." She beamed, walking over and throwing her arms around Colby. I was confused until the two locked lips.

_Of course, Colby and Camille are a thing. Of course, a girl whom I could never compete with was currently with the man of my dreams._

"Oh my god, I saw you on TV, you did so good! And you looked so good too! I knew Lauren and I did a great job on you." Camille said excitedly, walking to my side of the booth and throwing her arms around me.

"Wait- You two- Um, know each other?" Colby asked curiously, pointing at the both of us.

"Yeah, totally, Lauren and I gave her a makeover before the show, oh my god, you still look good. I knew that hair would work for you." Camille gushed, taking a seat beside Colby.

"So… um…" I shifted in my seat. "Is this some big coincidence or-"

"Oh no, Colby texted me and invited me, he knows I love this place so much so now he never goes here without me." Camille answered, grabbing Colby's face with both her hands.

_Of course he does, why would you expect anything else, Ari?_

"Wow, cute…" I said, forcing a smile onto my face, "Listen, I am honestly-" I made myself yawn briefly, "- So tired, and honestly, I'd hate to third-wheel, so I might head out." I added before standing up and grabbing my back.

"Oh, come on, don't feel like you have to go just because Camille got here. But if you really are going because you're tired, let me walk you back to Four Seasons." Colby said, leaning over the table.

"No, that's okay. I'd hate for you to leave Camille alone, and I've got my taser, whistle and pepper spray, I'll be fine. I really hope you two have a goodnight. Camille, thank you so much for everything, and thanks for bringing me here, Colby; it was nice to finally talk to someone who just wanted to listen."

"Oh, yeah, no problem at all." Colby said quickly before standing up, "So, will I see you at Raw next week?"

I softly smiled, "I wish, but I think they're going to bring in someone who's actually qualified to interview people next Monday."

"Hey, regardless of whether you were qualified or not, you did a really great job. I really hope you pop up at a show sometime soon." Colby uttered, smiling

_That goddamn smile._

"Yeah," I muttered, looking down, "Well, I'll see you guys…" I turned around and walked straight out of the café. Colby was still looking at me as I walked off. I tried not to look at him, but as I shut the glass door behind me, I stole one last glance.

_You're okay_, I thought as I walked down the street.

_You're okay._

* * *

I awoke to the sound of my phone vibrating on the bedside table. While rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I rolled over and picked it up to see that it was Grandpa.

"Grandpa? What are you doing? It's seven 'o'clock in the morning." I groaned.

"Honey, whatever you do, stay off of Twitter for a couple of days. Just don't even open any social media." He ordered, speaking quickly and loudly.

"Um, okay? Grandpa, I know you're running a billion-dollar company, but I think it would be best if you got sleep." I responded softly.

"No! Honey! You're not taking me seriously! Honey!"

"I'm going to hang up the phone now, Grandpa."

"Don't you even-"

I did just that.

Unsurprisingly, I disregarded everything that my grandpa had said in that phone conversation and immediately opened Instagram.

"Wait- What the…" There was something different about my profile, and then suddenly, it clicked.

I'd been verified.

Overnight, I'd been verified on Instagram. I also had 90 thousand new followers, but nothing stood out more than the little blue check next to _ariette_levesque_.

_Am I, like, a celebrity now? _I thought.

Next, I went to Twitter. The feeling that I got while looking at that platform was (significantly) less positive. The AriMcMahon hashtag popped up the moment I hit the wrestling topic on trending, tweets included but weren't limited to:

_\- Wow, that's what Ari looks like now. What a little hottie._

_\- Just found out that Ari Levesque is only 18. Not my proudest fap._

"EWWWWWWW!" I shrieked, but kept on reading because I was naturally drawn to hearing about myself, regardless of how fucked up it was…

_\- God, I would honestly watch Raw if it was three hours of Ari McMahon interviewing people_

_\- Wow. Give me that hot piece of ass so I can-_

"Oh my god. Oh my god…" I gasped, tossing my phone away. That one was maybe a little too fucked up.

I continued squealing in complete horror as I ran to the bathroom. _Maybe they have a wire brush I can scrub myself clean with after reading that, _I thought as I turned on the shower.

* * *

"How was your stay last night?" The receptionist asked me politely as I handed her the room key back.

"Great." I replied, hair still wet and face and neck still red from the shower.

"Well, that's good to hear. You're welcome to fill out one of our customer feedback forms." The receptionist gestured to a large A4 size of paper filled with questions sitting on the desk.

"Why not?" I muttered, stepping aside and taking a pen before beginning to write an answer to: "Please rate your stay on a scale from 1 to 10…"

In the corner of my eye, I saw a man approach the counter with a gym bag on one of his shoulders.

"Hey, I'd like to check out?" He asked.

I knew that voice.

After the woman took his key, I looked over just out of curiosity, only to completely lock eyes with the man. My jaw dropped even harder than it did when I saw Camille at the cafe when I saw who it was, as did his. We both stood in silence, neither of us knowing what to say, but both of us knowing that it would be rude to just look away.

What was there to say? Were we supposed to say nothing and hug like the long-lost family we technically were?

_No, he's not your family, not really, _I reminded myself.

He was the first one to speak, taking off the sunglasses that were already covering his eyes and uttering:

"Hi."

I put down the pen I was nervously gripping and immediately put a confident smile on my face.

"Hey, Cameron."

* * *

**A/N: Who is Cameron? Who was Ronda talking to on the phone? Why can't Hunter have the girls? What is Ari going to do with her life until next fall? And most importantly… What's the big secret? And when do you think it will finally come out? So many questions, so little answers, *insert evil laugh here***


	4. Induratize

**induratize **

_(v.) _to make one's own heart hardened or resistant to someone's pleas or advances, or to the idea of love.

* * *

_December 1999_

"Are you drunk?"

"Why would you say that?" Paul questioned, burying his head into Stephanie's shoulder.

"… Because normally you absolutely hate PDA and I'm fairly sure you just tried to eat my face." She answered. Paul smiled at Stephanie before muttering a few unintelligible words in reply, and suddenly, a hand clapped on Paul's shoulder, startling Stephanie. When she looked up, two men were standing there, only one having put his hand on Paul.

"You good, man?" The man with his hand on Paul uttered. He nodded, however, seconds after, Paul turned around before leaning over a conveniently-placed trash can and expelling the contents of his stomach right in.

"Okay, okay, party's over for you, pal. I think it's time to get you home." One of the men uttered, wrapping an arm around Paul and pulling him up.

"Are you over the limit?" The other man asked stiffly.

"Does it matter? I've driven when I've been a mouthful away from blacking out. I'll be fine."

"No, you're about to have a kid. You can't get a DUI right now."

The first man rolled his eyes, knowing that his friend was completely right. He reached into his pocket before tossing his keys towards the other man.

"Take my car. If you total it, I will kill you."

The second man laughed until he realised that the first man had a completely solemn look on his face.

"Wait, I can't go. The party only started a couple of hours ago." Paul mumbled, furrowing his eyebrows. "I didn't even get the chance to play beer pong."

"There's always next year's Christmas party, buddy. Come on…" The second man muttered. Before he could start leading Paul away, Paul turned around and engulfed Stephanie in a huge bear hug. The half-Smirnoff-half-puke smell made Stephanie quietly retch, but she hugged him back nevertheless.

"I love you. Get home safe, okay?" Stephanie said.

"I will."

Paul turned around and headed out of the room, stumbling behind the second man. By the time the two got to the door, Paul was so terrible on his feet that the man had to wrap an arm around him and helped him the rest of the way out.

"Poor guy can't ever handle his liquor." The first man said, sitting down beside Stephanie.

"Tell me something else I don't know?" Stephanie replied, smiling. There was a moment of silence between the two when they made eye contact, and Stephanie felt obligated to break it by asking: "How's the wife?"

"Grouchy." The man instantly replied, taking a sip out of his red solo cup. "I had to spend a week convincing her to let me come to this. She was all panicky about what would happen if she went into labour while I was here."

"It's only a three-hour drive back, you'd make it with hours to spare."

"That's what I said, and besides, she's still got an entire month left." The man said before smiling, "But that's just her, I suppose. She's never been rational about these kinds of things."

"So, are you excited?" Stephanie asked.

"Terrified. I told the old lady I was going to cut out the drugs and alcohol. That-"

"Hasn't happened. Yeah, I can smell the straight tequila from over here." Stephanie interjected, motioning towards the cup in the man's hand. "But she's right, you know? You're about to be a dad. You can't be wondering around at midnight drinking straight liquor out of a plastic cup with a baby."

"Fuck me, you sound just like her. Maybe you should consider being a parent; you sound like one."

"Oh, fuck that, you _know_ how much I hate kids."

It took Stephanie a few moments to notice that the man was staring at her after she stopped talking. When she looked towards him, their eyes instantly met, and a smile appeared on her face.

"I missed you in a weird way, you know? Ever since you left, no one else has popped up that's been quite like you. They're either the kind of asshole that's not funny, or the kind of funny that's too sensitive to really be funny." Stephanie uttered.

"So, you're saying I'm a funny asshole?"

"The best one I know."

"Well, I guess I'll just take that as compliment. I missed our talks. You can hold a conversation and you're nice to look at."

"So, you're basically saying that while I might be intelligent, the fact that I'm attractive is my strongest quality?"

"You couldn't be more right, you pretty little thing."

Stephanie couldn't help but laugh; partially out of horror, and partially out of happiness that the man she had secretly missed deeply, armed with his usual banter, was standing right in front of her again. The two found each other's eyes again for the third time that night, and this time, Stephanie knew that there was something there between them that wasn't there before.

Everything went so fast…

Stephanie didn't even notice the man's lips on hers until she heard his empty cup hit the ground.

He tasted like cigarettes, hard liquor and candy mints. She had absolutely no idea why, but Stephanie was already obsessed with it. Then suddenly, she came back down to Earth and realised what a horrible thing she was doing.

"Nope." Stephanie said forcefully the moment she pulled away, putting her hands on the man's chest. He grabbed them and she instantly pulled away.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. You're right, I shouldn't have- I really didn't-" The man stumbled over his words, running a hand through his hair. But all it took was one look at each other…

And Stephanie's lips were on his.

To the man, Stephanie tasted like sugar and weak Cosmopolitans. She didn't drink that much, and when she did, it was never anything hard; always a cocktail or a punch. Even though the man normally couldn't stand those kinds of people, he liked how it tasted on Stephanie.

"Do you wanna get out of here?" The man mumbled on her lips.

"Brian has your car, remember?" Stephanie whispered.

"Oh, that's right… Bathroom?"

Stephanie pulled away from the man and took a moment to think. _It's harmless, Paul won't know, he isn't even here, _Stephanie thought, _But then…._

"What about Be-"

The man put a finger on Stephanie's lips, a grin coming to his face.

"She won't know, my lips are sealed. And look around you, everyone else is too worried about who _they're_ going to sleep tonight to even take a look over here. I guarantee that this will be just between us." He muttered.

Stephanie took one last look around; the man was right, not a single person was looking at them. With a shy smile, Stephanie reluctantly nodded, and the two headed out of their dark corner at the WWF's annual Christmas party and towards the men's bathroom. The clock above the bar had recently struck twelve-thirty…

_Ariette Tallulah Levesque was conceived at exactly twelve-forty-five._

* * *

I struggled to find any appropriate words. The last I had heard, Cameron was attending Georgia Southern University in Statesboro, exactly 825 miles away (you best believe that I had worked that out before I touched down in New York).

"I saw you on TV last night, I just about died of shock. I didn't even know you were back from Asia." Cameron said.

_God, he still had that southern twang that I made fun of when we were kids. He talks like his dad, well, he talks like- No, don't say that. _

"Oh, yeah, I just got back yesterday. I literally got off the plane, went to HQ in Stamford and Grandpa was just like: "Hey, can you do this for me?"" I chuckled, "I'm still getting over my jet-lag." _I wasn't. _"So, what are you doing here?" I added, "I thought you'd be in Georgia at this time of year."

Cameron only looked down, a small smile coming to his face. His face was slightly red, almost like the fact that he wasn't at Georgia Southern was a source of embarrassment. _Did he get expelled? Was he lying about attending college in the first place?_

"I… um, well, I did a year at GS, but long story short, I hated it. Not college itself – I started studying journalism there and I loved it – but I couldn't stand the people there and I just didn't fit into any crowd at all. One of my lecturers suggested a transfer and gave me an Emerson College brochure, next thing you know I'm telling my parents that I'm moving to Boston for my sophomore year, well, telling them separately. Mom cried, Dad said: "There's not even any football there, what's the point?", but I'm happy. I came down over the weekend with some friends to see an art show."

I was floored. The Cameron I remembered walked around in cowboy hats, was a die-hard Spurs fan and centred his entire existence on setting up slip n' slides with anything _but _water. Now, Cameron was… an art nerd?

"That's- wow. So, you're still doing journalism?"

"Yeah, I have a blog now actually. I'm focussing more on sports journalism now I'm at Emerson, so I write about college sports around Boston."

_Good for him, he's perfectly happy. That's more than I can say for myself at the moment._

"So, anyway, that's enough about me. What about you? How was Vietnam? And out of all the places in the world, why Southeast Asia?" Cameron asked, smiling.

"Well, it felt like a whole different world to me, and I think that's what I wanted: To step into a world where I wouldn't be reminded of everything that happened." I answered.

Cameron looked down awkwardly, "Listen, I just wanted to say that Dad's sorry, he knows he did wrong, and he just really wants to be in touch with you." He uttered. A hesitancy lingered in his voice, like Cameron wasn't at all comfortable with what he was saying.

I softly sighed before shaking my head, "I don't know. I think- I think it's best if he stays out of my life. I hope you understand…"

"I- well, yeah-"

"Cameron! Come on! Our train leaves at nine-thirty!"

I looked over Cameron's shoulder to see a well-dressed man and woman who looked about his age standing near the door of the lobby. When I looked back at Cameron, I realised how well-dressed he was as well. The old Cameron tended to walk around in cargo shorts and, even when his parents had company over, nothing else; 'no shoes, no shirt, no service' regulations were an obstacle for him in high school. Granted, Cameron wasn't quite a Luka Sabbat when it came to fashion yet, but a double denim ensemble over a white t-shirt did wonders for him.

"I better get going." He muttered.

There was a brief silence, perhaps Cameron was expecting me to say something about how I had somewhere to be as well. _I didn't. I didn't even have to be checking out. I could stay in New York forever if I wanted to. _

"Can I get your number?" Cameron asked, leaning in closer. "I know things are a bit fucked-up, but I don't want us to be strangers. We don't have to be best buddies, but maybe a text every once and a while, you know? Just to check in?"

I thought for a moment.

_He's a nice guy, and you can't just blow him off, he's genuinely making an effort. Maybe there can be something between us other than awkwardness and forced politeness… _

"Okay… alright."

* * *

"BOY, HAVE I GOT SOME NEWS FOR YOU, GRAMPS!" I boomed the moment I opened the doors to Grandpa's office.

"Oh, that's good. How was your date?" He muttered idly.

I looked to see Grandpa's eyes glued to his computer, glasses on and fingers typing. Obviously, not a single one of my words had actually been comprehended.

"Oh, don't even get me started on that. Anyway, you will _never_ guess who I ran into at Four Seasons." I raved, putting my hands on his desk.

"Well, you're not currently a hysterical mess so it couldn't have been someone too important." Grandpa sighed.

"Oh- Stuff it, Gramps. It was Cameron. Get this, he's going to Emerson College. You know, 'yeehaw' Cameron." I said, stumbling through my words as took a seat on the other side of his desk.

"Cameron, like Cameron your-"

"Yes. _That_ Cameron. I saw him at the Four Seasons, he said he came down to see an art show." I raved. "I just have one thing to say: What the fuck?!"

"Language."

"He's supposed to be in Georgia, Grandpa. I thought I was going to be away from everyone." I hissed.

"Would you just calm down?! He's harmless, it's not like he did anything wrong. He probably feels just as awkward and out-of-place as you do."

There was a period of stillness between us. I realised that I was being ridiculous; Cameron and I, while we maybe weren't on the same boat, were most definitely in the same stretch of sea. He wasn't the asshole, he was just another victim.

"Hey, while I have you here…" Grandpa said, breaking the silence. "Listen, the people love you, and I know you're not qualified, but how do you feel about coming back to Raw next week in Worcester?"

"Uh…"

I loved the spot I did with Ronda, but I wasn't sure I could take the crippling "oh god, what if the whole thing is fucking awful?" feeling again. Plus, I felt awkward about the prospect of seeing Colby again. _God, I had read that entire situation so wrong. Next time, unless the guy explicitly states that it's a date, automatically assume that his solid ten girlfriend will be tagging along._

"Come on, we'll do two spots this time."

"Okay, you do realise that no part of that sentence makes me feel any better about going back again? That's twice as much to remember, twice as much room to fail and twice as much chance of creepy perverts talking about me like I'm a cut of meat on Twitter."

"First, I'll give you the scripts tomorrow, so that's not a problem. Second, you're not going to fail, again, we won't do it live so if it's bad, it won't go to air. Third, don't search yourself on any kind of social media and only occasionally read comments, and I hate to say it because this is you're my granddaughter and you shouldn't have to, but you'll get used to it."

"Grandpa, I don't know." I muttered.

"If you do this for me, you can have anything you want. Name it and I'll give it to you; a private island in the Caribbean, I'll get one of those pink Lamborghinis like the Dashians have."

"It's the _Kar_dashians, Grandpa. And I don't want an island or a Lamborghini, but…." I paused. _I can't believe I'm actually fucking doing this. _"I want an apartment in the city, not a penthouse, just a studio apartment that's not falling to pieces."

Grandpa lowered his eyebrows, "That's it?"

"Yes. Were you expecting me to ask for a castle in Ireland or something?"

"Well, I was expecting something more… exciting."

I sighed as I got up from my seat, "Leaving now…" I muttered before rolling my eyes and walking towards the door.

"Hey, hey…" Grandpa stood up from his chair. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to call you boring, come on, look at me."

I groaned and turned back toward Grandpa, folding my arms around chest. I looked slightly above him, avoiding his gaze.

"You're modest and you're grateful for all that you have been given. Not a word of this leaves this room, but it's a quality that all of your sisters are sorely lacking right now, so I have a theory on where you really got that from-"

"Grandpa."

"Okay, okay, I'll stop. But, and I know you hate that part of you and that if you could you could wish it away, you would, this whole thing isn't going to go away and no one's going to forget it. Can you just look at me and acknowledge it?"

I stood there in silence. _I can't, I won't._

"I'm gonna go now. I gotta go and unpack all my stuff, say hi to Grandma, I really can't stay." I uttered, stumbling over my words. I turned around again and opened the door; the feeling of Grandpa drilling his eyes into the back of my head. He wasn't angry or annoyed at me, he was just disappointed, which might have been even worse.

_But if I said it out loud, then I could never convince myself that it wasn't real ever again, _I thought.

"I'll see you at home." Grandpa grumbled before I heard the sound of papers rustling on his desk, indicating that he had gone back to his work. I only sighed before exiting the office.

When the receptionist asked me if I was okay as I was heading towards the elevator, I just told her that there was something in my eyes.

* * *

_Coconut Creek, Florida_

Paul rubbed his eyes as he stepped out of the shower, creasing his eyebrows when he found that his towel wasn't in the spot where he left it when he blindly reached for it.

"Looking for this?"

Paul took his hand off of his eyes to see Ronda sitting on the vanity, his towel in her hands and a smile plastered on her face.

"I didn't even hear you come in." Paul sighed, taking the towel and wrapping it around his waist.

"Yeah, well, I wouldn't have been able to hear me come in either. Nice music, by the way, you never mentioned that you were a fan of Bon Jovi." Ronda said, a smug grin coming to her face. Her moment of amusement was cut short when Paul wrapped his arms around Ronda's legs and pulled her closer to his waist. Ronda eagerly pressed her lips against Paul's and he more than happily reciprocated.

"How was New York?" Paul muttered on Ronda's lips.

"It was fine." Ronda replied before pulling away. She subconsciously wrapped her arms around Paul's shoulders, stopping when Paul suddenly grimaced. Ronda gently turned him around and saw a large purple bruise adorning Paul's left shoulder blade.

"I worked on my defence this morning and I landed on my shoulder when I was bracing some takedowns." He explained.

Ronda lowly sighed, "This kind of thing can't happen anymore. There's only two months until the fight; you absolutely cannot get injured right now." She uttered, tracing her fingers over the bruise softly. Paul only nodded in response; Ronda rolled her eyes before wrapping her arms around his chest.

"So, are you going to call Ari?" Ronda asked meekly.

"Does it make me a bad person if I say I'm not sure?"

"… No. She's not sure either, and she's not a bad person, she's just a kid who doesn't know who she is, and you're just a guy who doesn't know where he stands."

"Alright."

There was a moment of silence between the two after Ronda put her head on Paul's shoulder.

"I told Vince that we we're together." She murmured.

"You fucking what?!" Paul was out of Ronda's arms within a second and spun back to look at her. There was an anger in his eyes that wasn't there before.

"Would you relax? I'm kidding, it's called lightening the mood, ever heard of it?" Ronda argued.

"How the fuck is that shit funny to you?!"

"Why does it matter?! You don't even work for them anymore!"

"Yeah, but _you _do!"

"Am I missing something here? Because I have no idea what you're talking about!"

"Just keep your fucking mouth shut! None of those people need to hear about us!"

"Why are you being such a piece of shit for no reason?!"

There was a moment of silence between the couple, both realising simultaneously that perhaps they had taken it too far in only a matter of seconds. Ronda got off the vanity before exiting the bathroom, pushing past Paul, and slamming the door behind her. Paul turned and slammed both of his fists down onto the counter before grabbing the first thing he could find and throwing it at the ground. Unfortunately, that item happened to be a glass vase, rather, used to be a glass vase, since it shattered into dozens of pieces when it hit the floor.

Ronda stopped in the hallway when she heard the loud smash. She decided to turn around and walk back into the bathroom, knowing that Paul most definitely needed her help cleaning up whatever he had done.

_It's okay. Today's just a bad day, it's not like it's anything you haven't seen before, _Ronda thought.

* * *

**A/N: Hey everyone, took a two week break because it's assessment time at school and I needed the extra time. Wow, this chapter is a bit of a filler, but wow, the end was intense af to write. Is the 'secret' getting a lot clearer now? Who's the mystery man with Stephanie? OMG, this is so exciting! Follow, favourite and review.**


	5. Lethe

**Lethe **

(_n._) a river in the Greek underworld that, when drunk from, made souls forget the suffering of life.

* * *

_DCU Center_

_Worcester, Massachusetts_

"… And just so you know, my man isn't 'one of the best' right now, he _is_ the best in the WWE right now." Lio hissed before walking out of the shot behind Bobby.

There was a brief silence before one of producers loudly yelled "CUT!" and Lio walked back over.

"I'm so sorry! I promise I'm not that mean in real life." He uttered quickly, putting a hand on my shoulder.

"Don't be silly, I haven't forgotten what the business is like. I grew up with over-the-top egos and false personas."

_Gosh, that was more true than I wanted it to be._

"Oh, thank god, you're good at this, you know? For a second there, I thought I'd actually hurt your feelings."

"Well, that's why they asked me back a second time." I chuckled. Grandpa _did _say that the people loved me.

"Hey, I was just wondering-"

_Oh no, Lio had that tone in his voice. Oh no, oh no, oh no. _

"If they had that garlic bread at catering tonight? I saw you there earlier."

_Oh… okay._

Did I want him to ask me out? Can't say I was interested in him, so no. But would I have taken it as a compliment? Yes, to the point where you would have been starting to toss the word "narcissistic" around. Asking some one out is the ultimate sign of: "I thoroughly enjoy the thought of being with you.", and "I thoroughly enjoy the thought of being with you." is perhaps the ultimate compliment.

"Um, yeah, they do." I answered.

"Alright, cool, I'll see you around."

And with that, Lio was out of my sight. He was on the hunt for that garlic bread, and I, well, I was just confused and slightly disappointed.

Maybe I'm just a narcissist.

"So, am I all done here?" I asked a producer as I began to walk away.

"Yeah, you did a great job, kid, maybe we'll have to have you back sometime." He gave me a grin that (looking back on it now was probably just him knowing something I didn't, but at the time) could only be described as inherently creepy.

"Well- I'll see you." I muttered before speed-walking away and headed towards the dressing room, eager to pull my eyelashes out (they were fake ones, don't worry) and take the thousand pins that were in there out of my hair. When I walked in, however, I was greeted by a person who made me rethink that whole routine.

Colby was sitting there in a chair, having scarce amounts of eye-liner and concealer put on. Camera makeup.

"Hey, I was wondering if you'd be back or not." He said enthusiastically.

_Oh yeah, that's right. I see last week at the diner as a rejection of epic proportions, but he simply sees it as hanging out. We were… buddies. _

_This was fine, I was okay._

"Oh yeah, apparently they loved me, so he delayed the search for an uber-qualified person for a few days longer, so I could come back again."

"Did he make it up here okay?"

_Aww, that's sweet of him. _Grandpa had loaned me one of his cars to drive from Greenwich to Worcester, a distance that I had never driven before in a car. I had told Camille about my nerves (she has my number now, by the way, but that's a story for another time), and she must have told Colby what was happening.

"Oh, me? Yeah, I was fine. A little bit scary for the first hour or so, but it was good. I almost caused a collision only once." I replied.

"I'm positive that you didn't. I'm sure you were great."

_OH MY GOD, DOES THIS MAN EVER HAVE ANYTHING NEGATIVE TO SAY?! Ahem. I'm sorry you had to hear that._

"How's Camille?"

"She's good. She would have come tonight to see you again but there's a few performance center newbies heading into NXT and the creative team wants them all to look a certain way, and she's stuck working on it." Colby answered. "Anyway, how's living in your grandparent's basement treating you?"

"Well, first off, I'm not living in the basement, I'm living in the pool-house, where I at least have my own entrance. And, well, it's- it's-"

As I struggled with how to word exactly how I felt at that moment, my mind wandered to an… incident that happened earlier in the week

* * *

_"Did you know?"_

_"… Yeah."_

_I had just finished unpacking my things when there was a knock on one of the windows in the pool-house. Before I even turned around to see who was standing there, I had a strange feeling that it was someone who was, well, important to me, like my mother or my uncle. I turned around and thanked the good lord above that it was the latter; I didn't think I could handle seeing my mom at that moment. After the appropriate greetings had been said and a brief chat about how things were in Vietnam had taken place, Uncle Shane and I found ourselves sitting by the pool in complete and utter silence. I had decided to ask that question as an icebreaker of sorts, I didn't think my uncle was actually aware of my true parentage, but his answer instantly caught me off-guard._

_"Wait, what?" I asked, head darting towards my uncle._

_"Your mom came and saw me the night she found out she was pregnant. She said to me: 'There's no way it could be Paul's, and I don't know what I'm going to do'. I was the first person to know."_

_"Did you tell her to keep it a secret?"_

_"I didn't tell her to do anything, she made that decision on her own. And I'm not going to say that she made the right decision, but I look back and think about how good Paul was with you, he could have never matched that."_

_I only looked down in silence. I was… fucking furious._

_"My whole life… My entire life is built on one big lie and all you have to say is that it was probably better that way?" I hissed through a clenched jaw._

_There was a brief silence._

_"Yeah."_

_I was hiding it well, but, in all honesty, I was seething. Both my fists curled up into balls and I began to stare Shane (he most definitely wasn't worthy of being called Uncle now) down._

_"How could you not say anything?! What you did wasn't noble, you didn't enable me to have a good childhood, what you did was evil! You know what Mom did when she told my so-called Dad that she was pregnant with me? She trapped him! He's a good person and Mom took advantage of that! And you said absolutely nothing even though you knew about everything!"_

_"Even if I had my mind set on it, how was I supposed to come out with that? 'Oh, by the way, Paul, she's lying, the kid's not yours'?"_

_"… Yes. That's exactly how you would do it! It's called telling the truth! Jesus Christ, how could you just do that to someone?! How fucking dare you!"_

_I stormed off, wiping the angry tears off my cheeks, before Shane could even say anything at all._

_Suffice to say, Uncle Shane and I weren't on speaking terms right now, and probably wouldn't be for the foreseeable future._

* * *

"Oh yeah, it's… tolerable. Grandpa's getting me an apartment in the city though, so at least it's not going to be forever." I answered, crossing my arms.

"Wow. That's excit-"

Colby didn't actually stop speaking. I just saw someone walk by in my peripheral vision that made me stop comprehending his words. _God, that guy looked so familiar, the boots, the hat-_

_Oh no._

I looked towards the door and saw that they were gone, but that flash of the one person I possibly hated more than my mother was burned into my brain. Shocked and with tears in my eyes (already), I looked back at Colby.

"Was-was that…"

"He's here hyping up Johnny Gargano." Colby uttered. "I thought you knew."

I only shook my head before walking right out of the room, where to I didn't know; I just had to get out of that building. If I didn't know any better, I would've thought I was having a heart attack. _Jesus, why can't I breathe? Why am I so sweaty? IS THIS TUNNEL VISION?_

While in my breathless, half-blind and damp state, I initially didn't notice someone calling my name. _Was it Colby coming to see if I was okay? Was this going to be our 'rom-com' moment? _But to my disappointment, I realized that the voice _was not_ Colby. I would not get a fairy-tale moment today, I would instead get a massively tragic and humiliating breakdown instead.

"Ari!"

_He_ grabbed my arm when he got close enough, pulling it back so I finally had to look at him.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" I screamed, yanking my arm out of _his_ grip. We stared at each other for a moment, taking in the sight of each other, I suppose. _He_ used to be my hero and now he was just some asshole to me, and I used to be so close to _him_ that it was like I was his daughter when he was on the road and now I was-

_Oh, right._

"What do you want from me?!"

"Can we-can we just talk for a moment?" _He_ asked. His voice sounded so unsure, like he didn't know if this was all actually worth trying to have a conversation about it. I only scoffed in reply.

"There is absolutely nothing to talk about. I won't accept your apology and I won't take any bullshit excuse and forgive you."

"No, that's not why I came here tonight. I mean, I came here to apologize, but I'm not coming up with any excuses, I came here to talk about there being a chance of at least something that resembles a relationship between us."

Once again, I scoffed.

"Oh, so you didn't come here to make excuses, but you came here to talk that "Oh, we're still a family" bullshit?" I questioned.

"… Yeah. I know everything's fucked-up and I accept full responsibility, but we can get through this together, as a family."

I was so angry that I laughed. I don't even know where it came from, but when I came back down to Earth, I found myself holding a storage box and in the middle of a full-on belly laugh.

"We're not going to get through this together, because we're not a family. I am embarrassed of how I came to be; therefore, I'm embarrassed of you. I am ashamed to call you my father, and I hope that hurts you, because it hurts me every time I have to think about it. So, with the least amount of respect that I can possibly muster, STAY THE FUCK AWAY!"

People were… staring after that, probably thinking in their heads that I was nothing but an insane and flighty weirdo. I had gotten in_ his_ face, but he only stared at me impassively, while I, the one who, ironically, just went on the brutal tirade against another person, had tears in my eyes.

I hastily wiped them away before walking off again. I'm guessing my outburst most definitely hurt _his _feelings, because this time he didn't follow me. A couple of other people did, maybe Natalya and Charlotte? I honestly wasn't paying a lot of attention to whomever was pitying me, but rather how fast I could get to my car and get the hell out of there. So, I waved them off without a single word and sped off before the car door was even fully shut.

It didn't occur to me until I-90 that I had absolutely no idea where I was going. Should I turn back and sulk in my hotel room for the rest of the night? _No, that would just make me even more upset. _Should I go back to the arena? _Oh my god, don't be stupid. _Should I just drive back to Connecticut? _No, I had none of my things, I would have to return to the hotel at some point in the night._

That's when an idea (that seemed like a good one at the time) suddenly crossed my mind. Cameron was in Boston, maybe we could meet somewhere and I could try and block out what just happened. Before I even considered that I might be imposing on someone or interrupting something he already had planned, I had my phone up to my ear, waiting for him to answer.

"Hey."

"Hi…" I trailed off, "Um, I just got in my car and took off from a show in Worcester, and I was just wondering, can we meet somewhere and talk in Boston tonight?"

_Well, that was straight to the point._

"Yeah, sure. I'm actually at a party, do you mind coming here?"

"Not at all."

Against my better judgement, I had decided that a party was probably a good thing for me right now. Yes, me, a person who was probably in the middle of an emotional breakdown, thought that going to a party with copious amounts of drugs and alcohol was going to be perfectly safe and okay.

"Alright, I think the address is 12 Hawthorne Avenue, out in the suburbs. I'll be out front though, so if you can't find the number just look for me."

"Alright. Thanks, Cam."

"No problem, Ari."

* * *

"… So, I freaked out on him and I took off all of a sudden. I just couldn't handle being there any longer. Gosh, I hope I'm not coming off as crazy." I sighed, putting my head in my hands.

Not ten minutes after I'd arrived at 12 Hawthorne Avenue, Cameron and I were in the corner of the backyard, engaged in deep discussion and cradling beers that we weren't legally allowed to have. We were seated high on a stone fence, sitting opposite each other with both pairs of our feet hanging off the sides. For the first time in forever, I truly felt like I was a nineteen-year-old, and not some woman working a temp job at the WWE.

"Not at all. You've just been hurt, and you want to distance yourself from the perpetrator. It's nothing strange."

"That's comforting to hear. Hey, I'm sorry that I'm making you talk about your dad like he's the devil or something."

"Don't worry. My dad and I- well, we haven't been that close for a while. I guess it's a mix of all the shit went down and me going off to college and me… you know… deciding that I'm too avant-garde for Georgia Southern. I don't like talking about him behind his back, but, in the space of a year, it's like we've become strangers."

"Oh. That sucks, I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I've learned to live with it. Whenever I feel gloomy about it, I just say to myself: 'Well, he's still paying for you to be here, so he must still care about you a little.'" Cameron followed that with a chuckle, even though the sorrow in his voice was almost palpable.

Without even really thinking about it, I reached over and grabbed his hand and, when Cameron didn't immediately give me a stink-eye and pull it away, softly sighed. I didn't want to hug him eight there on that fence, but I wanted him to know that there was at least one person that had his back.

"We're both undeniably tortured souls, Cam-Cam. Now let's go get fucked-up."

* * *

_A solid half an hour later_

"_**BEND OVER TO THE FRONT! TOUCH YOUR TOES! BACK THAT ASS UP AND DOWN AND GET LOW!"**_

In my eagerness to forget this evening's proceedings, I had gone too hard way too fast. While downing five straight shots and chasing them down with two cups of lukewarm fruit punch afterwards, I had somehow gotten separated from Cameron. Not to worry though, I was now happily leading the crowd throughout a medley of 2000s songs.

Towards the end of a song, I stepped off the chair I was standing on and walked over to the third cup of fruit punch I was working on that I had left on a table. It was only after I had taken the world's biggest mouthful that I locked eyes with a guy across the room who was… running towards me?

"Hey! Don't drink that! Someone put something in that!" He called out. For the second time that evening, I scoffed and brushed someone off before taking another mouthful and, to my surprise, felt the strange feeling of a pill going down my throat.

_Oh. _

"Shit. Shit. Shit. What do I do?" I asked the random man.

"Cameron! Get over here! I found her and we got a situation!" The guy called, not even paying an ounce of attention to me. _Was I slurring my words already?_

Before I knew it, Cameron was standing in front of me.

"Fuck this guy. Cameron, do I make myself vomit?" I asked.

"What?"

"I said-"

At this point, it dawned on me that my speech was in fact horribly slurred, and "Do I make myself vomit?" came out more like "Derimakessevoma?".

It truly was fucking tragic.

The guy, or girl (let's not rule that out), who roofied me that night must have had access to some hardcore shit, because by the time Cameron and his friend were taking me up the stairs to the bathroom, I was completely gone.

* * *

"_Why the fuck do I have whiplash? I only head-banged a couple of times." I muttered to myself, walking down the stairs._

_At 6:30, my dad had asked me to come and walked the dogs with him, I accepted since, even though it was the night of my graduation, I was going away to college soon and those moments were it was just the two of us would become few and far between. I became suspicious when he started stalling me, saying things like "Oh, we've never gone this road before" and "We should sit down here". And when we finally got back to the house at 7:30, the cars lining the driveway gave it away.. So, the words that made me aware of the party were not: "SURPRISE!", but instead: "God fucking dammit, I told your mother to make everyone park at the back of the house!"_

_But, eager not to hurt everyone's feelings, I still acted shell-shocked when I entered my house and everyone jumped out._

_Now it was 12:30 in the morning and, since my party was filled with kids who had curfews and middle-aged adults, everyone had filed out at this point and I was in my bed. However, my stiff neck had led me downstairs towards the kitchen in search of some water and an aspirin. As I got closer to the kitchen, I began to hear muffled voices coming from the back porch. _

"_Do you remember that time all of us piled into the one hotel room to nitpick Starrcade?"_

_There was laughter between two people, and, when I poked my head out from behind a corner, I saw my mom and a man standing outside, leaning close to each other. A small smile formed on my face; the two had always seemed like good friends who just had trouble showing it._

"_Do you remember the Christmas party in '99?" Mom asked._

"_God, sometimes it feels like it's all I ever think about. God, what a mess…" The man responded._

"_A mess that turned into something extraordinary, well, at least that's what I think." _

"_No, don't get me wrong, so do I. It's just-"_

"_More difficult for you to see it that way, I know. Hey, I'm really sorry for shutting you out all those years ago."_

"_No, it's okay. Paul was better for her anyway, she grew up with him there and now she's going to an Ivy League school. I would've just fucked her right up."_

_Who the fuck are they talking about?_

"_No, you wouldn't have. But, I'm glad things turned out this way, I wouldn't have them any other." Mom uttered_

"_So, we're never going to tell them?" _

"_We can't. I'm sorry, but she'll be an adult soon. You can get closer to her under the pretense of: 'We're both grown-ups, let that be our thing in common.'"_

"_God, it's still hard to wrap my head around it. I'm really that kid's father…"_

"_You're her father. You're Ari's father."_

_WHAT THE FUCK?_

_My throat went dry and I could feel my heart pounding in my ears. Despite my legs feeling like they might give out, I took off running, leaving the front door wide open as I sprinted out of it, off the porch and down the driveway. I didn't stop to cry my heart out, as I was already shaking with sobs as I ran. _

_Despite my surprise party's beginning being a flop, there was another moment that night where I felt nothing but pure shock. But instead of being mixed with happiness and the feeling that you were loved, it was mixed with horror and disgust._

_My dad wasn't my real father._

_The man was my father._

_He_ was my father.

_He_ is my father.

My father is-

* * *

**A/N: Ahahahahahaha, I don't think so. You'll finally find out the identity of **_**He **_**a.k.a **_**Him **_**a.k.a The man a.k.a Ari's real father in the next chapter (but if you've been putting all the clues together, you've probably already figured it out). In the meantime, follow, favorite and review!**


	6. Lítost

**lítost **

_(n.) _a state of agony, torment or sorry said to be created by the sudden sight of one's own misery.

* * *

"_Hey, is Ari back at the house in Connecticut with you?"_

"_**No, she's not."**_

* * *

"_Hey, Steph, I don't know why I'm asking this, but is Ari with you?"_

"_**No, definitely not. Is she missing or something?"**_

* * *

"_Has Ari called you? Nobody's known where she is since last night."_

"_**No, she hasn't. She hates my guts right now."**_

* * *

"_This is Vince McMahon of the WWE, I just wanted to know if an Ariette Levesque checked out this morning?"_

"_**No, sir, I'm just checking our records now and I'm afraid she hasn't."**_

* * *

"_This is going to sound strange, but did Ari call you last night after she blew up at you?"_

"… _**BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA."**_

* * *

"_I don't expect you to respond to this, but Ari took off from the show last night and I was thinking she might have called you? She was upset when she left and, well, I don't know, I just thought maybe she'd turn to you. Just please just send me a message if she did. Alright, bye."_

_**Nothing.**_

* * *

"_Come on, Ari. Pick up the phone, pick up the phone…"_

"_**Hi, this is Ariette! I can't answer the phone right now but leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can!"**_

_Vince had already left four._

* * *

He was currently standing on the tarmac of Worcester Regional Airport, watching his plane pull into the taxiway. Vince wasn't going anywhere though, not until he found out where his granddaughter was. Deciding against recording a fifth voicemail, he took his phone away from his ear and continued his search for other people he could ask about Ari. Vince wasn't quite at the stage where he was calling the police demanding a missing person's report, but he was most definitely worried.

Right up until he received a message:

_Cameron just called me. Ari's with him in Boston. Kid's sleeping off a massive hangover._

Vince, who had gone from worried to seething in a space of three seconds, immediately sent back:

_What's your boy's number?_

* * *

"COME ON! JUST HIT THE DAMN BALL!"

I woke up with a dry mouth and a pounding headache on a couch I didn't recognise. The yelling startled me, and I shot up.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, I forgot you were there." I heard.

Cameron's friend from last night was sitting on the other couch, both his hands up at me. I only loudly exhaled and flopped back down again.

I didn't remember every little detail, but I did recall that last night was a disaster (one perhaps might even say a tragedy) of epic proportions. For those of you that need a refresher, I…

Incorrectly assumed I was getting asked out:

"_**Hey, I was just wondering… if they had garlic bread at catering tonight? I saw you there earlier."**_

Cussed out my biological father:

"_**STAY THE FUCK AWAY!"**_

Got obscenely drunk at a party I basically invited myself to:

"_**BEND OVER TO THE FRONT! TOUCH YOUR TOES! BACK THAT ASS UP AND DOWN AND GET LOW!"**_

And managed to get roofied by ignoring the all-important rule all women should follow at all times: Never leave your drink alone:

"_**Derimakessevoma?"**_

"I don't mean to be rude, but, where am I?" I asked, breaking the silence again.

"Cameron's apartment. I'm Ajay, by the way. I live here with him. He's out getting some stuff at the moment, but he'll be back soon." The guy on the other couch answered.

I quietly sighed, while I was certain that not everything was okay (for all I knew, I could have been reported missing by now), at least I hadn't been abducted.

"Thank you for trying to warn me last night, and sorry for blowing you off." I said, following it with a polite chuckle.

"Heh, don't worry about it, it happens to the best of us." Ajay responded.

"Do you know who put it in?" I questioned after a short period of silence.

"Nah, sorry. It happens more times here than anyone wants to admit, it was probably just some creep who was following you around."

"I don't know whether that should calm me or make me more worried." I muttered, putting my arm over my eyes. As I spoke, I heard a door open, and all of a sudden there was a Gatorade in my lap. I looked up to see Cameron peering over the edge of the couch at me.

"Heyyyyyyyyy- I can't think of a word to call you right now besides your name that isn't totally inappropriate." He said, with a musical tone in his voice. We both laughed, and it wasn't long before I covered up my face in embarrassment.

"Oh my god, I am so sorry, I completely ruined your night." I cringed.

"Don't worry about it, I was looking for an excuse to leave anyway." Cameron said, shrugging. I softly chuckled before looking at the TV again, as if it was on cue, a UFC promo began the moment I looked over:

"_12 months in training, but an entire lifetime in the making… One last chance for greatness against one of the most terrifying fighters of the modern era, and what better place to have it out than America's Playground? See former WWE superstar Paul 'Triple H' Levesque take on the undefeated Kemal 'Colossus' Kaplan at UFC 243 in Atlantic City on September 17. Order it now on ESPN+ or purchase your tickets at , but hurry, seats are running out fast. This one is not to miss."_

I furrowed my eyebrows, of course, I had heard that my dad was going to have a fight in the UFC, but none of it seemed real until I saw that promo. He'd talk about how he could probably do it all the time, but Mom always talked him out of getting in touch with Dana White, saying that he could get seriously hurt and he had four little kids to worry about. I guess he had no one in his ear trying to stop him after everything went to shit…

"Ajay and I are thinking about going down to Jersey for that. He's a Kaplan fan." Cameron said, pointing at Ajay. He waved at me before flexing his biceps in an awkward position.

"Colossus crushes!" Ajay bellowed in a stereotypical Russian accent.

"Isn't he Israeli?" I asked Cameron, looking up at him. He was already pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation and slight embarrassment.

"I've told him that… many times." Cameron sighed. He then chuckled, slightly uncomfortably, before looking at Ajay. There was a particular look in his eyes, one I had seen before, but I couldn't quite but my finger on, and when I looked over at Ajay, he was staring at Cameron the exact same way.

"So, anyway…" Cameron said suddenly after briefly shaking his head. "Do you want to come down with us if we do? I know everything's super weird between you and Paul now, but it seems like it would be a good fight."

"Hmm..." I paused, having absolutely no idea as to whether I wanted to see my father get the shit beaten out of him or even beat the shit out of someone else (but considering Kaplan's win/loss record, it was probably going to be the former). Before I had the chance to continue, an 8-bit version of Edge's theme song began blasting from Cameron's pocket.

"Hold that thought." He mumbled to me, before pulling a phone out of his pocket and answering.

"Hey, this is Cameron… Yes, she's with me… Oh… I… Well… Yes, she did tell me that… No, sir, that wasn't what I was intending… O-okay, I will." Cameron then held out his phone to me, a slight look of fear on his face.

"It's your grandpa. He's not happy."

* * *

"How could you have thought that was a good idea?! Do you understand the worry you caused?! I had most of the crew driving around Worcester county looking for you!"

"I was angry."

"I don't care if you were turning pink with blue polka-dots, you don't just take off from a show like that. Get on the plane."

After yelling at me on the phone for fifteen minutes straight, Grandpa had sent someone to pick me up from Boston. We were now standing on the tarmac of Worcester Regional airport, directly in front of his jet, I loved riding in it when I was younger, but now I would have preferred literally anything else to a private plane ride with my fuming grandfather. But, not wanting to piss him off more, I grumbled, crossed my arms and marched up the steel steps onto the plane.

"What about the car? That's still in Boston." I pointed out after I had entered.

"I sent someone else to get that. You are so, so lucky that I have more than one key made for that car, kid. Also, you've lost all car privileges, the next car you drive is your own, do you understand? If you're going to act like a child and just run off, then I'm going to treat you like one." Grandpa growled, walking in behind me and taking a seat. I awkwardly took one straight after, feeling his eyes stare daggers at me the whole way down.

"Would you have stayed?" I asked after a brief period of silence. Grandpa only glared at me for a few moments.

"Maybe, but if I chose not to, I would have called somebody telling them where I was going." He answered bitterly. I only sighed before looking out the window, afraid that if I made anymore eye contact with Grandpa, he might have literally thrown something at my head.

"I wasn't even going to give the option of coming, because I know that there's no way you'd want to, but your mother's having this family dinner tonight. She's going to be there obviously, your grandmother and I going to be there, your sisters are going to be there, your uncle and your cousins are going to be there… And guess what? You _are_ coming." Grandpa ordered, pointing right at me.

"Oh my god, Grandpa, I'm not on talking terms with a third of the people on the list, do you have any idea how awkward that whole thing will be if I go?" I protested, running both hands through my hair.

"You know what else was awkward? Having to call five different employees and say: 'Oh, you can stop looking for my granddaughter, she's not dying in a ditch somewhere in Worcester, she's hungover on a couch in Boston.'" Grandpa sighed, "I need a drink." He added, picking up a glass and a decanter filled with whiskey sitting on a surface beside him.

"It's not even midday, it's not even 11am." I pointed out, narrowing my eyes.

"When you've been up since three wondering where your granddaughter is, it most certainly is."

"Grandpa-"

"Not another word. I'm serious. Not another word until this plane lands again."

* * *

"You could've dressed for the occasion, you know?"

"I think you should just appreciate the fact that she didn't lock herself in the pool house and refuse to come."

"I agree with Grandma. You should." I uttered, right before taking a sip of fruit smoothie I had made just before we left the house. I didn't even like fruit, I just wanted to stall Grandma and Grandpa. I had also showered, taken an Alka-Seltzer to sober up, and had dressed in my favourite Dr Seuss jammies.

Grandpa only grunted in response and shook his head before reaching forward and ringing the doorbell. My breath caught in my throat when I heard the sound it made; the same sound I had heard over and over again for eighteen years. A sound that I wasn't sure I ever wanted to hear again.

_Fuck me, if you can't even make it past the doorbell without getting emotional, then this isn't going to be a very fun night._

And then I heard something that was about a million times worse.

"Come in! I'm in the kitchen!"

"Yeah! She's actually cooking for once!"

It was my mom and my uncle, bantering as usual, but regardless of how hilarious I found it when I was young, it now made me teary-eyed for reasons I didn't completely understand. Unfortunately for me (since crying in front of people might have been my least favourite activity in the world), Grandma looked back and noticed.

"Are you okay, honey? You don't have to do this if you really don't want to, I can drop home." Grandma said.

"I'm okay, I'm fine. Can I just stay outside for a moment?" I mumbled, wiping my eyes. As shitty as I was about being forced to do this, I was too scared of what everyone would think of me if Grandpa announced to everyone that I was literally outside the door then decided to go home.

Grandma nodded before her and Grandpa entered the house, shutting the door softly behind them, perhaps so they wouldn't startle me (even though I wasn't what you would call on edge, I was just really, really upset). I took a seat on the front steps and let out a shaky breath; the stone felt so familiar underneath my hands, and, suddenly, all these memories that I'd locked up in the back of my brain for the past year came flooding back.

My dad (not the real one, unfortunately) and I would sit on those steps when he had forgotten his keys, waiting for Mom to come home so we could be let in. That didn't really happen anymore after Aurora was born, so that was a _really _old one.

I once tripped down those steps and busted my lip open; if I thought really hard, I could still remember the taste of blood and dirt in my mouth, as well as the fear in my mom's voice as she carried me into the emergency room. I still had my baby teeth then because I remember that a couple were knocked out; another old one.

I was slow to walk up them every time I stayed out past curfew, whether it was an accident or not. I would see the lights in the kitchen still on and immediately want to run away, but I wasn't a bad kid by any stretch, so I walked in and faced the music every single time.

I remember how the steps felt under my feet when I ran out of the house the night of my graduation, but the feeling I remember the most was that my whole world was ending, and I could do nothing but run away from it.

I also remember how they felt under my feet the last time I came to this house, just two days after my graduation, when I single-handedly destroyed two marriages, my relationship with my father (again, not the real one) and any hope that my 'family' would be a real family again.

* * *

_I was already crying when I opened the door and shuffled inside. The lights were off, but I could faintly hear the television playing an action movie, and I wiped my eyes as I walked towards the living room. The first thing I saw was the back of Dad's head- Oh god, do I still call him Dad? He doesn't know already right? No, that's what I'm here for._

"_Dad…"_

_I didn't notice I was speaking until it was over, almost like this subconsciousness within me had willed me to say something. I sounded pathetic, I really did, like I was ready to just collapse in a heap and start bawling my eyes out._

_Dad instantly turned his head around and he- Jesus Christ, he ran to me and scooped me up in his arms._

"_Hey, baby, why'd you run away?" He asked softly, cupping my face in his hands. "I've been scared shitless. What's wrong? Why'd you go?" He questioned. _

_I lost it right then and I started to sob as he held me. _

"_Dad," I whispered, "I have to tell you something. I have to tell you something and it's really, really bad and you're going to hate me, and I don't know if you're going to be able to handle it, but I have to tell you."_

"_Baby, I could never hate-"_

* * *

He did.

I told him, and then he left that house forever. Not once did he call me, not once did he try and see me before I left for Vietnam (my mom turned up at Grandma and Grandpa's door hoping to see me eight times before I left), he didn't even text me.

I was nothing to him anymore, and the worst part was he still meant the world to me.

I jumped up from the stairs and quickly wiped my eyes when I heard footsteps coming towards the door. I wasn't weird about my emotions or anything, but I just didn't want anyone to know I had been crying… Oh, I guess that _did _mean I was weird about my emotions.

_Please don't let it be my mom, please don't let it be my mom, please don't let it be my mom…_

"You okay out here, Hun?" I heard as soon as the door open.

"Yeah, I'm fine, Grandma. I'm coming in now."

"Okay, sweetie."

Grandma walked back inside, leaving the door slightly ajar behind her. I pushed my hair out of my face before wiping my eyes one more time and walking up the stairs again. Reluctantly, I headed inside.

The first thing I saw was the giant wall of family pictures Mom had spent my entire lifetime building; it started with my baby pictures in the centre, then to pictures of me when I was a little older, then to Aurora, then to Murphy, and then to Vaughn. I always remembered it as so beautiful, now it looked so odd and misshapen. That's when it hit me…

Mom had taken down all the photos that had Dad in them.

It felt like a punch in the gut when I realised it. All signs that any of us even had a father had disappeared from that wall, but we did, and he was a great one. Mom was the one in the relationship that fucked up; she was the one that didn't deserve a place on that wall.

Speaking of Mom…

I heard the sound of heeled shoes coming towards me. You had to go around the wall of pictures to get to the rest of the house, so she couldn't see me and I couldn't see her until she turned a corner. Then, suddenly, she did turn the corner.

She was standing right there in front of me.

I wanted to turn around and run straight back out the door, just like I did a year ago, but I remained frozen in my spot. _It was okay to run then, now you have to just face it,_ I thought.

I could see on Mom's face that she was trying to find the right thing to say, her eyebrows slightly lowered and lips pressed together. I imagined I looked similar, as I too was searching for something to say to break the silence. Eventually, I gave up and only gave her a slight nod.

"Stephanie." I mumbled, before walking right past her, around the corner and into the hall.

_What? Surely you weren't expecting this perfect tearful reunion. I know I've said this before, but I hate her, I truly do._

"ARI!"

I turned around to see Murphy and Vaughn running straight towards me. Instantly, I dropped my bag, went to my knees and pulled them into my arms. I don't say it enough, and I know I've never really mentioned it before, but I love my little sisters and I felt horrible for leaving them behind.

"Let me look at you, guys." I grinned, shuffling back a bit so I could finally get a proper look at my two youngest sisters. They both had gotten a whole lot taller, but, aside from a few tiny changes, both of their faces were exactly the same. That's when I noticed they were both teary-eyed, and I sadly smiled and hugged them both again.

"Hey, hey, what's going on? I didn't know I was that bad." I said, smiling at my own joke.

"We saw you on the TV, why didn't you come and see us before now?" Vaughn mumbled.

I sighed. I didn't know how much they knew, and I wouldn't say anything just so I wouldn't hurt them, but how on earth was I suppose to explain everything without giving anything away?

"It's really, really complicated, but Mom and I don't really get along anymore, and I wouldn't know if I'd be able to act like an adult in front of you guys and set a good example, but I promise that's exactly what I'm going to do tonight." I answered, ruffling Vaughn's hair.

She only nodded, her facial expression one of partial but not complete understanding. Murphy's face, however, suddenly lit up.

"Rory! Look! Ari's back!" She said excitedly, and I turned my head around to see my third youngest sister standing there with her arms crossed. She was also in her pajamas; I guess it was the universal sign of protest tonight. She was also wearing- _Oh god, that's a lot of eyeliner. Whatever, whatever, she's my sister, I love her no matter what._

I got up off my knees and walked over before throwing my arms around her. I had barely been hugging her for two seconds when she shrugged out of my grip, and I frowned as she stepped out of my arms.

"Actually, I'm good." She hissed bitterly before turning on her heel and stomping up the stairs. I furrowed my eyebrows and hmm'ed as I looked back at Murphy and Vaughn.

"Mom said she's going through some chaaaanges." Vaughn hummed, swinging side to side slightly. I only slowly nodded before glancing up the stairs again. Aurora's contempt towards me could have easily been explained by teen angst, but I couldn't help but wonder if it was actually something more than that.

I ruffled Vaughn's hair one last time before continuing to walk towards the kitchen where everyone else was gathered. My mom had already found her way back and was with Grandpa, Grandma, Uncle Shane and-

_What in god's fucking name is he doing here?_

_He _was here. _He _was here. _He _was actually the first one that noticed me. With an air of caution about him, _he_ slowly nodded his head towards me, making everyone else look over. Unlike Mom, he decided to break the silence without hesitation.

"Hey, kid."

_Who thought it was a good idea to invite this asshole? Did anyone think this through? Why did Grandpa make me do this? Oh god, I should have just gone home._

I had dug my hands in my pockets and looked down in thought. Eventually, I realised that I should at least say _something_; I wasn't coming off as cool or the classy kind of bitter, just rude and awkward.

"Hey, Shawn."

* * *

**A/N: By god, everyone, I've finally done it. I've revealed _He_, even though, looking back through chapters now, I can certainly see why a lot of you picked up on who it was lol. Also, wow, It has been a long, long time since I've updated this story and I am so, so sorry, but I'm here now and fingers crossed I can find the time to update a lot more regularly from now on. As usual, follow, favourite and review! Love you guys. **


	7. Noveau Depart

**Noveau depart**

_French translation of 'new start'_

* * *

_For one that would turn out to be one of the worst in Shawn's life, the day started out identical to countless others. He woke up, took a shower and checked his phone for any missed calls or texts. Today, he saw a message from Paul. It said that Ari was safe, that she had come home, and she was just at Vince and Linda's house the entire time. When Shawn sent a text back, asking why she ran away, he never received a reply._

That's odd_, he thought._

_Shawn moved on with his day regardless, he was scheduled to teach a class at the performance centre that day and had to leave the house by eight thirty. Once he had finished getting ready, Shawn said goodbye to Rebecca, Cheyenne and Cameron – who had essentially entered hibernation since his summer vacation began – before heading out. Shawn took the Florida 408 route to work, as usual, and walked through the doors of the WWE performance center at exactly nine a.m. Apart from Paul's message, nothing about his day so far had been negative, or particularly special; it was just a regular day._

_By nine fifteen, Shawn was already teaching his class. They were good kids – even if most of them were fairly unremarkable – and it was an easy group to teach. Shawn had just gotten in the ring when the first sign that this wasn't a normal day made itself apparent:_

_His phone began to ring. His phone never rang when he was teaching a class. Shawn ignored it, not wanting to interrupt the group, and simply allowed it to go to voicemail._

_Then, it rang again._

_And again._

_And again._

_The fifth time his phone began to vibrate in his pocket, Shawn excused himself and went to an empty conference room. His stomach dropped when he pulled his phone out and saw that he had now had five missed calls from Rebecca. Reluctantly, Shawn pressed her name in his contacts and held the phone up to his ear. Rebecca skipped pleasantries and greeted Shawn with the burning question on her mind as soon as she answered the phone._

_"Did you fuck her?"_

_The dead silence on his end of the line instantly gave the answer away. Shawn was frozen in his spot; the words were foreign to him as first, but, once they had sunk in, Shawn, realising that his only option was to play dumb, cleared his throat and spoke._

_"Who's 'her'?" He asked, a strong yet obviously artificial sense of confusion permeating his voice._

_"You know."_

_Rebecca was not falling for the act, and Shawn immediately went back to the drawing board, madly wracking his brain for ways to diffuse the situation. He opened his mouth to say something like: 'it was twenty years ago…' but quickly closed it when Shawn realised that doing that would just make everything worse. Rebecca didn't even want him to go to that party, and two decades did not change the fact that he had impregnated someone else. So, Shawn gave up._

_"Yes, I did, at the Christmas party in-"_

_"You don't have to give me the whole spiel. Paul just told me everything."_

_Shawn was silent, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion – this time it was real. How did Paul know? Who had told him? _Was it Stephanie? If Stephanie told Paul without even telling me first, then I'm going to kill that bi-

_"I just wanted to hear it from you."_

_The hopelessness in Rebecca's voice made Shawn instantly forget about Stephanie's possible betrayal, now he just wanted to curl up and disappear. _What the fuck is wrong with you, Shawn? What the fuck is wrong with you?! WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH-

_"Paul told me that you're Ari's father. Did you know that?"_

_Shawn sighed, looking up at the ceiling. If he answered the question honestly, then that would be it; the final nail would be in the coffin, and their marriage would be all over. If he wasn't honest- well, they would still be over, Stephanie or Paul would just be the one to tell Rebecca the truth, not him. Shawn shook his head at the thought; he was done with being a liar._

_"Yes." The word came out quietly. Shawn was being honest, but it still didn't change the fact that he was ashamed._

_"How long- how long have you known?"_

_"Since Stephanie told me she was pregnant."_

_There was dead silence. Shawn thought for a moment that Rebecca had hung up on him and, preoccupied by his own misery, Shawn had missed the beep, but a voice in the background proved him wrong._

_"Hey, Mom? Can I please have my car keys back? I know you said I couldn't have them back until Sunday, but- Mom, are you alright? What's wrong? What happened?"_

_"I'm alright. I'm alright. Listen, we need to leave the house. Go and get your sister." Rebecca wasn't crying, but her voice was quiet and monotone; it sounded broken._

_"Wait, what?! I can come home and we can talk about this, Becky. What are you doing?! You don't need to leave. Becky?!"_

_Shawn was only greeted with the same beep he thought he had missed moments before._

_He rushed out of the conference room, somehow managing to get out a jumble of words out to his class that he had to leave. Shawn had to make it back home before Rebecca left. They had to talk. He wouldn't let her leave. He couldn't let her leave._

_As Shawn jogged towards the performance center's exit, an enraged, distraught and exhausted-looking Paul – with one hand in a fist by his side - came into his view. It would soon occur to Shawn that making it home in time would not be in his future.  
_

* * *

"What's nine in Vietnamese?" Murphy asked.

"I think it's chín, but I didn't have to say it that often so I'm not a hundred percent sure." I answered.

"What's Vaughn in Vietnamese?"

"It's still Vaughn, V. Names are the same in any language, but there's not a lot of Vaughns over in Vietnam, so whenever I brought you up, people always used to look at me like this." I lowered my eyebrows so much that it was comical, and Vaughn giggled.

After spending a grand total of two minutes making awkward, reluctant small talk with the adults, Vaughn and Murphy came and begged me to play with them and, as tedious as I once found it when I was actually living with my sisters, I happily accepted.

"What about-"

Someone clearing their throat in the doorway of the room caught Vaughn off and I looked over to see Shane standing there. He pointed at me, and for some reason my entire body tensed up.

"I have to talk to you." Shane uttered, using his hand to beckon me over. As soon as I stood, he turned around and walked out of the room. I followed him downstairs, through the house and all the way to the front porch. Once Shane stopped, he only rubbed his forehead and sighed.

"I'm sorry for what I said last week. It was insensitive, and you're right, I didn't think it through, and I was just trying to make sure your mom didn't get hurt."

"By hurting someone else?" I questioned without missing a beat. I shook my head straight over, though, and chastised myself: Stop it, he knows what that he was wrong and he's trying to fix it, at least a little.

"I'm sorry, that was rude." I quickly added; Shane only shrugged.

"I made a bad call, and you're angry." He reasoned. "Let's just leave it at that."

I only nodded before looking up at the sky. A question crossed my mind, and, even though I was pretty sure I already knew the answer, I decided to speak.

"Have you talked to… Paul since everything happened?" I inquired, not looking away from the orange and purple sunset. In the corner of my eye, I saw Shane look at it too.

"No, kid. I haven't. I don't know what to say other than sorry and I doubt he has any idea what to say at all." He answered. "He loved you to pieces. He still does, I'm sure, but everything's so different now. It just killed him, you know? He put so much into you, and you were always the apple of his eye. When you got into Princeton, I didn't think I would ever hear the end of it." Shane proceeded to chuckle. I did too, but mine was remarkably sadder and shakier, and of course Shane had to notice.

"You okay, kid?" He questioned, putting a hand on my shoulder. I quickly nodded my head, but the tears that were dangerous close to falling down my cheeks and shaking hands gave away the shitty feeling I felt all over.

"I'm fine. I'm fine." I uttered, madly wiping my eyes. It had been so long since I had properly cried – I didn't count breaking down in front of Shawn yesterday, as that was out of anger and not out of a longing for a home that did not exist anymore. Shane, despite how well I thought I was hiding my feelings, Shane kept his hand on my shoulder and, soon enough, I caved.

"I just miss my dad," I wept, my voice slightly muffled since I had buried my face in the crook of my elbow beforehand. "And he hates me, I miss him more than anything, and he fucking hates me. And you know what the worst part is? It's not even my fault. I did everything right and everything still went all fucked up. It's not fair."

Shane was always a bit awkward with affection; a hug on special occasions, but a handshake or a high-five at any other time. However, straight after I had finished my teary rant, he pulled me close with the arm he already had around me and let me put my head on his shoulder.

"I know." Shane said quietly.

"I want my dad." I whispered.

"I know."

I continued to bawl quietly, and Shane didn't move a muscle- Actually, he had most definitely earned the title of 'Uncle' back now, so rather Uncle Shane didn't move a muscle; he just stood there, letting me unload my feelings with my head on his shoulder. Eventually, the pain wasn't so bad anymore and my sobbing died out.

"Are you gonna' be okay, kid? I mean, I know you're gonna' be just fine in the long run, but are you okay to go back in there and be with this people?" Uncle Shane asked quietly.

I gave myself a few moments to think about it, but, in the end, I slowly nodded.

"Can I just stay out here for a few moments? Give myself a little bit of pep talk?" I asked in reply, looking down and cracking a tiny smile.

"That's alright. I'll go get you some water." Shane said, pointing towards the door.

I nodded and turned to face the sunset again; it had become more purple, signifying the near-end of daylight. I heard Shane open the door behind me, but furrowed my eyebrows when I didn't hear it close again a few moments later.

"When I said water…" I suddenly heard, "I meant a glass of this super expensive wine that your mother doesn't want to open, is that still okay?"

For the first time that night, I was genuinely smiling.

"Absolutely."

* * *

It truly was, and I cannot stress this enough, the most awkward dinner I had ever been to in my entire life, and I had spent countless meals in Vietnam trying to communicate what food I wanted when I spoke not a word of Vietnamese.

Mom had broken out the fancy cutlery, napkins and candles, but no matter how much fancy stuff she put on the table, it would not overpower the uneasiness in the air. Most of us were displeased with at least one other person at that table. Some of us downright hated at least one other person at that table. However you chose to look at it, almost every single one of us had a problem with another human being in that space.

My issues were more than obvious – the scowl aimed at Shawn and Mom wasn't fading away anytime soon, and others weren't that hard to spot either if you took a moment to look around: Uncle Shawn and Grandpa weren't talking to Shawn in that 'man talk' kind of way like they used to, Aurora was giving Mom and Shawn a death stare that would put mine to shame any day, Grandma wasn't talking to Shawn like she used to either, but that was secondary to the look of horror that formed on her face every time Aurora's eyeliner – which had grown more dramatic since I had stepped into the house – caught her eye. The only two people that were truly carefree were Vaughn and Murphy, made obvious by the fact that they were shovelling food into their mouths while everyone else's dinners had been hardly touched.

Unsure of who else to talk to and what to say, I turned to my two youngest sisters again, putting on a smile and gently hitting the table.

"So, you guys said you saw me on TV. Do you guys watch Raw a lot?" I asked.

"Yeah, we watch it every week. Murph and I wanna' be superstars when we're older!" Vaughn replied, an ear-to-ear grin forming on her face.

"Oh really, who do you want to be like?"

"V and I wanna' be like the IIconics. You should become a superstar too, so there's three of us instead of two." Murphy interjected, leaning over Murphy.

"But I'm a lot older than you guys and, besides, I wasn't wrestling on TV; I was just interviewing people. What about Aurora?" I asked.

Before Vaughn or Murphy could answer, a loud scoff sounded from the other end of the table. We all looked over and saw Aurora leaned back in her chair, twirling her fork around with an amused grin on her face. God only knew what was about to come out of her mouth, and something told me that none of us were going to like it.

"I'm good actually; it's not for me. Besides, Mom doesn't even let you watch it on TV in front of her anymore, if you guys became wrestlers, it'd probably kill her."

The silence that had befallen the entire table became more deafening, at least that's what it seemed like in the back of my head. My focus, admittedly, was not on the current noise level in the dining room, but rather what in the hell my sister just said. I furrowed my eyebrows and slowly rotated my head in Mom's direction; I had promised myself not to look at her in anything other than disgust, but, right now, confusion overpowered hate.

"And why's that? You separated from-" I remembered Vaughn and Murphy – neither of which had a clue as to what had gone on over the past year – were sitting right next to me, and the urge to piss off Shawn was irresistible even at this moment, "… Our dad. I'd understand if you didn't let them watch NXT or any of his matches or anything, but he didn't create the entire WWE. This man did." I added, pointing at Grandpa. "If you have a problem with him, then why _the hell _is he sitting across the table from you?"

Mom was silent as she pinched the bridge of her nose in what I could only assume was embarrassment. _God, she should be. _Shawn, still sitting beside her, opened his mouth to say something, but ultimately decided to keep quiet. He then sighed, crossed his arms and looked to the side so he wouldn't have to make eye contact with any of us.

"Yeah, Mom, you said you were going to explain it to us, but you never did." Vaughn interjected.

Eventually, Mom spoke up, but it was not to answer my question.

"Aurora, seriously?" Mom came out with, turning to Aurora. She was still twirling her fork around, but now she was attempting to hide her amused smirk. "You really think this is a good time for that? You couldn't save that-"

"_Stephanie_!" I didn't realise how loudly I had snapped until a few seconds after, nevertheless, I glared at Mom and continued: "Could you _please _answer the question?!"

The table was silent again, even Vaughn and Murphy had picked up on the awkwardness and were staring down at their respective plates, avoiding eye contact with anyone but each other. I watched as Mom quickly wiped her eyes, fitting considering I could feel angry tears coming to my eyes as well.

"Ari." I heard in a low yet menacing tone from the other side of the table. I looked over and saw Grandpa glaring at me, his eyes narrow and his jaw clenched.

"Can we talk about this later?" He requested quite calmly for a man who looked as though he, even though he was in his twilight years, was about to leap across the table and stab his steak knife into my neck.

I looked down, taking a moment to swallow the lump in my throat, and silently nodded. In the corner of my eye, I saw Aurora, presumably satisfied with her work, stand up from the dining table and leave the room; no one followed.

I took one last look at Mom – who looked about ten seconds away from breaking down in hysterics – and decided that I would be the one to.

* * *

By the time I reached Aurora's room, she was slumped in an office chair, her pajama hoodie pulled up over her head as she scrolled through her phone. I softly knocked on the door frame to get her attention, but that didn't seem to have any effect on her.

"What did you call him '_our _dad'?" Aurora asked without even looking up from her phone. I sighed, taking it at an invitation to walk in and take a seat on her bed before anything else.

"He raised for me eighteen years. Excuse me if I'm still getting used to the fact that he's biologically nothing to me." I said meekly, crossing my arms.

"He's my dad, not yours."

"Yeah, Rory, I know that, but can you just give me a break for two seconds?!" I raised my voice and instantly regretted it, face-palming and looking away. I expected to be met with the same level of, if not more, hostility, instead I was met with silence.

"Whatever." Aurora muttered after several seconds, shrugging lazily.

There was a silence between us. I thought I had come up here wanting to say so much to my sister, but by now I had realized I only came up here to escape the pit of hell that was the dining room table.

"When was the last time you saw… your dad?" I asked quietly.

"I don't know. A couple of months ago, I guess. He came here to visit us, but he came with someone and they couldn't leave us alone with him-"

"Supervised visitation? What happened? Does it have to do with the fact that Mom has a problem with WWE now?"

Aurora opened her mouth to speak, but, after tilting her head and fiddling with the zipper on her hoodie for a few moments, she softly hummed in thought instead.

"I shouldn't be the one to tell you." Aurora said simply after she had finished.

_Wow, it must have really fucked up if my hormonal, impulsive and vengeful thirteen-year-old sister doesn't even want to tell me. _I pursed my lips in an attempt to hide my surprise and only nodded.

"Why did you leave? Why did you leave me alone with them?"

My breath caught in my throat, and it took everything I had not to break down crying right there and madly apologize – I didn't think Aurora would appreciate me snot-crying in her room that much. In truth, I couldn't give her an answer to that question that would justify running away to the other side of the world; I knew I shouldn't have left my sisters, but, back then, I wasn't thinking about my sisters. I was just thinking about me.

"Would you have stayed if it was you?" I asked simply.

For the second time in the space of two minutes, Aurora lazily shrugged.

"I should have called. Can we just leave at that? And, I know this might be a big ask, but can we possibly be on the same page? I know I'm the reason everything's fucked up now, but it's not my fault, and, believe me, I am just as bitter and resentful as you are." I paused, "I'm just a bit better at hiding it, with all due respect. Regardless, we might not be in different boats, but we're in the same sea."

Aurora sat in silence for a few moments before shaking her head.

"But your dad's down there." She responded shakily, pointing to the floor. "You still have him. He's literally on the floor beneath you. You could go down there and hug him right now if you wanted to. My dad's in Florida. How am I supposed to hug someone when they're thirteen-hundred miles away?"

"I don't know, Rory. But that man down there? That's not my dad. He's just some guy who slept with our mom nineteen years ago. You know what? Your dad is _my _dad, and I don't care what you or anyone else thinks about it. I miss my dad too."

Aurora looked offended for approximately a second and a half, before a soft, sympathetic expression appeared on her face and she looked down in guilt.

"Have you visited Dad?" She asked softly.

"No, Rory. He didn't answer my calls, and, eventually, I stopped trying. People have been telling me I should try and get in touch with him, and it feels like no one really gives a fuck that I have."

Aurora quietly gasped in shock- something I wasn't even sure she had the ability to do while exhibiting her 'I-hate-the-world-right-now-demeanour' - and, before I had processed what was going on, I felt something wrap its arms around me. It took me a few moments to realise it was Aurora herself.

I expected her to say something, but even when she didn't after more than a few moments had passed, I wrapped my arms tightly around her in return.

"I should give you Cameron's number." I muttered after a period of dead silence. "We bonded over my trauma, maybe you guys can bond over yours… Even though you guys are six years apart."

Even though I wasn't looking at her face, I could feel Aurora make a grimace through her head on my shoulder and, while I rolled my eyes beforehand, I softly smiled.

"Hey, he's not a bad guy. He's my brother." That felt so strange coming out of my mouth for the first time, but, after only a handful of seconds, it had begun to feel like something I said all the time.

"But how can you think Cameron's your brother if you don't think Shawn's your dad?" Aurora asked quietly.

To tell you the truth, I had no idea how to answer. Calling Cameron my brother – which was beginning to feel more like second nature by the minute – felt so different to calling Shawn my dad – which still felt so wrong. Was it wrong to call him a brother when I was unprepared to accept anything else?

"I can't quite put it into words. Hell, I don't even think I really understand it; he's just my brother. He took care of me, you know? Don't tell anybody but I went to a party with him last night, and I got roofied, and he took me back to his place, gave me a place to sleep; he made sure I didn't die, I'm pretty sure."

Aurora practically leapt back from my arms and stared at me in disbelief, her eyes wide and her mouth in an o-shape.

"Whatever, I didn't get raped, I didn't die, I'm right here in front of you, blah, blah, blah. My point is Cameron's a good guy, and even though he isn't your brother, he can be a friend. I'm positive of it." I assured Aurora, my hands moving to her shoulders. I continued to stare at her, putting my best 'everything-is-fine' look on, until the shocked expression left her face. I stood to get my phone out of my back pocket.

"Oh, and while it's still fresh in my mind…" I waited until Aurora looked up at me, "Maybe try to torture Mom a little less. I mean, you can still have mixed feelings or whatever, but you can't go around ruining dinners like that every night. Besides, I already hate her guts and I think one child detesting her is more than enough to make her feel guilty for the rest of her life. You're right in that she shouldn't be allowed to forget it, but you know who is allowed to forget it every once and a while? You."

Like she had done more than once throughout our entire interaction, Aurora didn't answer for a period of time. Eventually, she crossed her arms and nodded.

"I can try."

* * *

"…This whole space has so much room, it's definitely one of the more generously-sized open living areas in this area. Oh, and that room over there was designated to be a second bedroom, however it of course can be used for other purposes, such as a study room, an arts studio, or simply a guest bedroom. Central Park is just a five-minute walk away and here you're surrounded by some fabulous dining, entertainment and retail options." The realtor beamed.

I had somehow left the dinner at my old home alive and with at least most of my sanity still in tact. While I did smooth things over with two people, there was still two people I had negative feelings towards, and I had fare-welled them both with nothing more than a gruff 'see you later' with zero eye contact. But before I get too into grudges and unhealthy resentment as per usual, I have to catch you up on an important event that happened the morning after.

I was woken up by my grandpa at six 'o'clock sharp; that element of the story alone was not very noteworthy, as my dear old pop had done crazier things throughout the time that I had known him. However, after waking me up, he told me that he was taking a look at an apartment in the city and I had to come with him since, in his words, it was official WWE business and it involves things I may be doing if I were to receive a permanent job at the company. That confused me, since I had simply assumed that I would be a lowly assistant once I finished my tenure as a backstage interviewer, and I didn't think lowly assistants at the WWE viewed two-bedroom apartments in the Upper East Side.

Nevertheless, I got ready and Grandpa and I were in the city by eight. Despite being given a full tour of the apartment by a realtor with a bit too much cologne on and a lot too much gel in his hair, I was still completely in the dark as to why I was here exactly.

"Well, I'd say that's about it." The realtor said, bringing his hands together, "I'll leave you two to have a look around yourself, maybe talk more about this decision privately, but I'll be outside if you need me." And, just like that, the realtor strutted off.

"This is amazing. Seriously, it looks like it just jumped out of a Tumblr dashboard-" I ignored the fact that my 74-year-old grandfather did not know what Tumblr was, "-but who is this for? Are you going to… hold someone here? Oh my god, don't tell me you have a mistress and you're setting her up here? I mean, I can't say it's completely awful, I mean if you're putting her here it might mean she has no other place to-"

"Ari, this is for you."

The words reached the part of my brain that was _actually _responsible for processing words and were refused entry, so I just stood there, dumbfounded.

"What?" I uttered.

"This is for you. You're going to live here, provided you like it and want to live here."

I had no words. Not a single one. Instead of replying to Grandpa with an intelligible phrase, my only response to his words was to sink to the ground until I was sitting on it, cross-legged and staring off into the distance.

"This-this isn't right. How am I going to pay for all of this? All I said I wanted was a studio apartment, and- Jesus Christ, this is _not _a studio apartment. Not to say that this isn't amazing, but- but- oh my goodness, Grandpa, nineteen-year-olds are supposed to live in dorms or live in Brooklyn with their seventy roommates, how is this going to work?" I rambled, my head in one of my hands.

If Grandpa was younger, he would have squatted beside me and reassured me with a hand on my shoulder, but since he was an old man now no matter what side you looked at it from, he had to stay in the exact position – standing straight up – in the exact same position and say:

"I have something in mind. You'll work, don't worry about that, but I don't want you to feel inadequate about being here. If you choose to, this will be yours, and I promise I'm going to make it feel like it."

"How?" I got out.

At the back of my mind, I felt guilty; Grandpa probably pictured me being over the moon at this gift, but instead I was a nervous wreck.

There was silence, but, eventually, he was brave enough to speak up again.

"I wasn't going to tell you this until later, but I want you to become the backstage interviewer for Raw. Ari, everyone there loves you and you are magnificent. Again, that's your choice. If you want to make coffees and photocopy all day instead, you can do that, but if I was in your shoes, I know which one I would choose."

Again, the words reached the processing center of my brain and were completely and utterly rejected. I looked up at Grandpa, head tilted and horribly slack-jawed.

"You choose. I'm not encouraging you to do this anymore, but I'm not discouraging you from anything either. From this point onward, everything is up to you. Do you want this place, Ari?" Grandpa paused, taking a moment to look around. "Do you think you'd like to be famous, Ari?"

* * *

**A/N: Holy f**king s**t, it has been a hot minute since I have updated this story – massive apologies about that – and this chapter is loooooooong af that's for sure. I wish I could say I'm going to update this much more often from now on, but this week I entered law school and phew they warned me about the workload but honey I did not anticipate this much so fast. HOWEVER, in saying that, I will try my damnedest not to SEVEN MONTH gap – Jesus Christ, guys, I'm so sorry – in between chapters next time. Hang in there, guys. Updates may be erratic but I'm still trying my best to pump them up, even if I only have time to write a single line a day. As usual, follow, favourite and review! Love you guys that have done that already, and to anyone new, regardless of whether they do any of the three above, love you too xx**


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